UNIVERSITY  OF 
UNA 


«*y 


UNIVERSITY 
NORTH  CAROLINA 
chobl  of  Library 
S  c  i  3X 


TH 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 
I  llll 


00022226379 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/waterbabiesking 


He  looked  up  at  the  broad  yellow  moon 
and  thought  that  she  looked  at  him 


6t 


The 

belter -Babies 

by 

Charles  Kinsley 


Illustrated  by 
Jessie  Willcox  Smith 


Dodd,Meed  '&>  Company 

Publishers 


Copyright,  1916, 
By  DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY,  Inc. 


\jOc-JGL*    -  -WU- 


Library    Univ.  ol 
Norrh  Carolina 


TO 

MY  YOUNGEST  SON 

GRENVILLE  ARTHUR 

AND 
TO  ALL  OTHER  GOOD  LITTLE   BOYS 

Come  read  me  my  riddle,  each  good  little  man; 
If  yon  cannot  read  it,  no  grown-up  folk  can. 


INTRODUCTION 

"IT  was  in  1863  that  The  Water-Babies  was  written, 
showing  the  naturalist  in  the  fulness  of  his  strength, 
fearlessly,  yet  tenderly,  playing  with  the  tremendous 
results  of  advanced  science  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury. .  .  . 

"The  writing  of  the  book  was  the  outcome  of  a 
gentle  reminder,  at  breakfast  one  spring  morning,  of 
an  old  promise,  to  the  effect  that  as  the  three  elder 
children  had  their  book — The  Heroes — the  baby,  my 
youngest  brother,  then  four  years  old,  'must  have 
his.'  My  father  made  no  answer,  'but  got  up  at 
once  and  went  to  his  study,  locking  the  door,'  and  in 
an  hour  came  back  with  the  first  chapter  of  The  Water- 
Babies  in  his  hand.  At  this  pace  and  with  the  same 
ease  the  whole  book  was  composed.  .  .  . 

"A  visit  in  1858  to  Mr.  W.  E.  Forster  in  Wharfe- 
dale,  and  to  Mr.  Morrison  at  Malham,  gave  him  the 

[    7    ] 


INTRODUCTION 

local  setting  of  the  beautiful  opening  chapters.  For 
the  grandeur  of  the  scenery  of  Godale  Scar  and  Mal- 
ham  Cove  had  made  a  profound  impression  on  his 
mind,  as  did  the  beauty  of  the  Wharf e  below  Denton 
Park. 

"Places  he  had  seen,  and  many  more  he  had  read 
and  dreamed  of  in  his  father's  fine  library  of  voyages 
and  travels,  fairies  and  men  of  science,  fads  and  foibles, 
education  true  and  false,  Pandora's  box  and  sanitary 
science — a  matter  always  dear  to  his  heart — the  ways 
of  beasts  and  birds,  fishes  and  insects,  of  plant  and 
tree  and  rock,  of  river  and  tide,  are  all  interwoven 
here  with  the  deepest  truths  of  life  and  living,  of  morals 
and  religion.  So  that  while  the  book  enchants  the 
child,  it  gives  the  wise  man  food  for  thought.  .  .  . 

"Happy  are  the  children  who  get  their  first  ideas 
of  the  marvels  of  nature  all  around  them  from  such 
a  lesson-book  as  this.  .  .  . 

"And  perchance,  when  they  are  grown  men  and 
women,  and  like  Tom  have  won  their  spurs  in  the 
great  battle,  they  may  look  back  with  thankful  hearts 
to  certain  pages  in  The  Water-Babies;  pages  which 
taught  them,  while  as  little  children  they  read  a  fairy 

[  8] 


INTRODUCTION 

tale,  what  a  fine  thing  it  is  to  love  truth,  mercy,  justice, 
courage,  and  all  things  noble  and  of  good  report." 

Thus  Rose  G.  Kingsley,  in  a  preface  to  her  father's 
fairy  tale,  describes  the  impromptu  manner  in  which 
The  Water-Babies  was  written.  Dashed  off  for  the 
pleasure  of  his  own  little  son,  this  book  has  charmed 
and  entertained  thousands  of  children  for  more  than 
fifty  years,  and  has  undoubtedly  in  many  cases  taught 
"what  a  fine  thing  it  is  to  love  truth,  mercy,  justice, 
courage,  and  all  things  noble  and  of  good  report." 

The  Editor. 


[  9  ] 


J2cdS5^£ 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

He  looked  up  at  the  broad  yellow  moon  .  .  . 
and  thought  that  she  looked  at  him 
(Page  148) Frontispiece 

Facing  Page 

"No.     She  cannot  be  dirty.     She  never  could 

have  been  dirty" 36 

He  felt  how  comfortable  it  was  to  have  nothing 

on  him  but  himself 86 

"Oh,  don't  hurt  me!"  cried  Tom.     "I  only  want 

to  look  at  you;  you  are  so  handsome"    .      .     140 

And  Tom  sat  upon  the  buoy  long  days      .      .      .     158 

He  felt  the  net  very  heavy;  and  lifted  it  out 
quickly,  with  Tom  all  entangled  in  the 
meshes 174 

Tom  reached  and  clawed  down  the  hole  after  him     1 86 

They  hugged  and  kissed  each  other  for  ever  so 

long,  they  did  not  know  why        ....      194 

Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid 236 

And  there  he  saw  the  last  of  the  Gairfowl  standing 

up  on  the  Allalonestone,  all  alone    .      .      .     272 

It  took  the  form  of  the  grandest  old  lady  he  had 

ever  seen 290 

Mrs..  Doasyouwouldbedoneby 344 


/  I 


•h 

6%. 


*o 


CHAPTER   I 


• 


CHAPTER    I 


ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  little  chim- 
ney-sweep, and  his  name  was  Tom.  That 
is  a  short  name,  and  you  have  heard  it 
before,  so  you  will  not  have  much  trouble 
in  remembering  it.  He  lived  in  a  great  town  in  the 
North  country,  where  there  were  plenty  of  chimneys 
to  sweep,  and  plenty  of  money  for  Tom  to  earn  and 
his  master  to  spend.  He  could  not  read  nor  write,  and 
did  not  care  to  do  either;  and  he  never  washed  himself, 
for  there  was  no  water  up  the  court  where  he  lived.  He 
had  never  been  taught  to  say  his  prayers.  He  never 
had  heard  of  God,  or  of  Christ,  except  in  words  which 

[  iS  ] 


I 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

you  never  have  heard,  and  which  it  would  have  been 
well  if  he  had  never  heard.  He  cried  half  his  time,  and 
laughed  the  other  half.  He  cried  when  he  had  to  climb 
the  dark  flues,  rubbing  his  poor  knees  and  elbows  raw; 
and  when  the  soot  got  into  his  eyes,  which  it  did 
every  day  in  the  week;  and  when  his  master  beat 
him,  which  he  did  every  day  in  the  week;  and  when 
he  had  not  enough  to  eat,  which  happened  every  day 
in  the  week  likewise.  And  he  laughed  the  other  half 
of  the  day,  when  he  was  tossing  half  pennies  with  the 
other  boys,  ror  playing  leap-frog  over  the  posts,  or 
bowling  stones  at  the  horses'  legs  as  they  trotted  by, 
which  last  was  excellent  fun,  when  there  was  a  wall  at 
hand  behind  which  to  hide.  As  for  chimney-sweeping, 
and  being  hungry,  and  being  beaten,  he  took  all  that 
for  the  way  of  the  world,  like  the  rain  and  snow  and 
thunder,  and  stood  manfully  with  his  back  to  it  till 
it  was  over,  as  his  old  donkey  did  to  a  hail-storm; 
and  then  shook  his  ears  and  was  as  jolly  as  ever;  and 
thought  of  the  fine  times  coming,  when  he  would  be  a 
man,  and  a  master  sweep,  and  sit  in  the  public-house 
with  a  quart  of  beer  and  a  long  pipe,  and  play  cards  for 
silver  money,  and  wear  velveteens  and  ankle-jacks,  and 

[  16] 


THE  WATER-BABIES 


keep  a  white  bull-dog  with  one  gray 
ear,  and  carry  her  puppies  in  his 
pocket,  just  like  a  man.  And  he 
would  have  apprentices,  one,  two, 
three,  if  he  could.  How  he  would 
bully  them,  and  knock  them  about, 
just  as  his  master  did  to  him;  and 
make  them  carry  home  the  soot 
sacks,  while  he  rode  before  them  on 
his  donkey,  with  a  pipe  in  his 
mouth  and  a  flower  in  his  button- 
hole, like  a  king  at  the  head  of  his 
army.  Yes,  there  were  good  times 
coming. 

One  day  a  smart  little  groom  rode 
into  the  court  where  Tom  lived. 
Tom  was  just  hiding  behind  a  wall, 
to  heave  half  a  brick  at  his  horse's 
legs,  as  is  the  custom  of  that  country 
when  they  welcome  strangers;  but 
the  groom  saw  him,  and  halloed  to 
him  to  know  where  Mr.  Grimes,  the 
chimney-sweep,  lived.     Wow,   Mr. 

I  i7  } 


C£ 


&3> 


s 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


Grimes    was    Tom's    own 
master,  and  Tom  was  a  good 
man  of  business,  and  always  civil  to  cus- 
tomers,   so  he  put  the   half-brick  down 
quietly  behind  the  wall,  and  proceeded  to  take 
orders. 

Mr.  Grimes  was  to  come  up  next  morning 
to  Sir  John  Harthover's,  at  the  Place,  for  his 
old  chimney-sweep  was  gone  to  prison,  and 
the  chimneys  wanted  sweeping.  And  so  he  rode 
away,  not  giving  Tom  time  to  ask  what  the  sweep 
had  gone  to  prison  for,  which  was  a  matter  of 
interest  to  Tom,  as  he  had  been  in  prison  once  or 
twice  himself.  Moreover,  the  groom  looked  so  very 
neat  and  clean,  with  his  drab  gaiters,  drab  breeches, 
drab  jacket,  snow-white  tie  with  a  smart  pin  in  it, 
and  clean  round  ruddy  face,  that  Tom  was  offended 
and  disgusted  at  his  appearance,  and  considered  him 
a  stuck-up  fellow,  who  gave  himself  airs  because  he 
wore  smart  clothes,  and  other  people  paid  for  them; 
and  went  behind  the  wall  to  fetch  the  half-brick  after 
all;  but  did  not,  remembering  that  he  had  come  in  the 
way  of  business,  and  was,  as  it  were,  under  a  flag  of  truce. 

[  18  1 


THE  WATER-BABIES 


His  master  was  so  delighted  at  his  new  customer 
that  he  knocked  Tom  down  out  of  hand,  and  drank 
more  beer  that  night  than  he  usually  did  in  two,  in 
order  to  be  sure  of  getting  up  in  time  next  morning; 
for  the  more  a  man's  head  aches  when  he  wakes,  the 
more  glad  he  is  to  turn  out,  and  have  a  breath  of  fresh 
air.  And,  when  he  did  get  up  at  four  the  next  morn- 
ing, he  knocked  Tom  down  again,  in  order  to  teach 
him  (as  young  gentlemen  used  to  be  taught  at  public 
schools)  that  he  must  be  an  extra  good  boy  that  day, 
as  they  were  going  to  a  very  great  house,  and  might 
make  a  very  good  thing  of  it,  if  they  could  but 
give  satisfaction. 

And  Tom  thought  so  likewise,  and,  indeed, 
would  have  done  and   behaved   his   best,   even 
without    being    knocked   down.       For,    of    all 
places  upon  earth,  Harthover  Place  (which 
he  had  never  seen)  was  the  most  wonder- 
ful, and,  of  all  men  on  earth,  Sir 
John  (whom  he  had  seen,  having 
been    sent   to   gaol   by 
him  twice)  was  the 
most  awful. 

[  19] 


I 


t 


THE  WATER-BABIES 

Harthover  Place  was  really  a  grand  place,  even  for 
the  rich  North  country;  with  a  park  full  of  deer,  which 
Tom  believed  to  be  monsters  who  were  in  the  habit  of 
eating  children;  with  miles  of  game-preserves,  in  which 
Mr.  Grimes  and  the  collier  lads  poached  at  times,  on 
which  occasions  Tom  saw  pheasants,  and  wondered 
what  they  tasted  like;  with  a  noble  salmon-river,  in 
which  Mr.  Grimes  and  his  friends  would  have  liked  to 
poach;  but  then  they  must  have  got  into  cold  water, 
and  that  they  did  not  like  at  all.  In  short,  Harthover 
was  a  grand  place,  and  Sir  John  a  grand  old  man,  whom 
even  Mr.  Grimes  respected;  for  not  only  could  he  send 
Mr.  Grimes  to  prison  when  he  deserved  it,  as  he  did  once 
or  twice  a  week;  not  only  did  he  own  all  the  land  about 
for  miles;  not  only  was  he  a  jolly,  honest,  sensible 
squire,  as  ever  kept  a  pack  of  hounds,  who  would  do 
what  he  thought  right  by  his  neighbours,  as  well  as 
get  what  he  thought  right  for  himself;  but,  what  was 
more,  he  weighed  full  fifteen  stone,  was  nobody  knew 
how  many  inches  round  the  chest,  and  could  have 
thrashed  Mr.  Grimes  himself  in  fair  fight,  which  very 
few  folk  round  there  could  do,  and  which  would  not 
have  been  right  for  him  to  do,  as  a  great  many  things 

[20] 


THE  WATER-BABIES 

are  not  which  one  both  can  do,  and  would  like  very 
much  to  do.  So  Mr.  Grimes  touched  his  hat  to  him 
when  he  rode  through  the  town. 

Now,  I  dare  say,  you  never  got  up  at  three  o'clock 
on  a  midsummer  morning.  Some  people  get  up  then 
because  they  want  to  catch  salmon;  and  some  because 
they  want  to  climb  Alps;  and  a  great  many  more 
because  they  must,  like  Tom.  But,  I  assure  you,  that 
three  o'clock  on  a  midsummer  morning  is  the  pleas- 
antest  time  of  all  the  twenty-four  hours,  and  all  the 
three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days;  and  why  every 
one  does  not  get  up  then,  I  never  could  tell,  save  that 
they  are  all  determined  to  spoil  their  nerves  and  their 
complexions  by  doing  all  night  what  they  might  just 
as  well  do  all  day.  But  Tom,  instead  of  going  out  to 
dinner  at  half-past  eight  at  night,  and  to  a  ball  at  ten, 
and  finishing  off  somewhere  between  twelve  and  four, 
went  to  bed  at  seven,  when  his  master  went  to  the 
public-house,  and  slept  like  a  dead  pig;  for  which 
reason  he  was  as  piert  as  a  game-cock  (who  always 
gets  up  early  to  wake  the  maids),  and  just  ready  to 
get  up  when  the  fine  gentlemen  and  ladies  were  just 
ready  to  go  to  bed. 

[21  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

So  he  and  his  master  set  out;  Grimes  rode  the 
donkey  in  front,  and  Tom  and  the  brushes  walked 
behind;  out  of  the  court,  and  up  the  street,  past  the 
closed  window-shutters,  and  the  winking  weary  police- 
men, and  the  roofs  all  shining  gray  in  the  gray  dawn. 

They  passed  through  the  pitmen's  village,  all  shut 
up  and  silent  now,  and  through  the  turnpike;  and 
then  they  were  out  in  the  real  country,  and  plodding 


along  the  black  dusty  road,  between  black  slag  walls, 
with  no  sound  but  the  groaning  and  thumping  of  the 
pit-engine  in  the  next  field.  But  soon  the  road  grew 
white,  and  the  walls  likewise;  and  at  the  wall's  foot 
grew  long  grass  and  gay  flowers,  all  drenched  with 
dew;  and  instead  of  the  groaning  of  the  pit-engine, 
they  heard  the  skylark  saying  his  matins  high  up  in 

[    22] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

the  air,  and  the  pit-bird  warbling  in  the  sedges,  as  he 
had  warbled  all  night  long. 

All  else  was  silent.  For  old  Mrs.  Earth  was  still 
fast  asleep;  and,  like  many  pretty  people,  she  looked 
still  prettier  asleep  than  awake.  The  great  elm-trees 
in  the  gold-green  meadows  were  fast  asleep  above,  and 
the  cows  fast  asleep  beneath  them ;  nay,  the  few  clouds 


which  were  about  were  fast  asleep  likewise,  and  so 
tired  that  they  had  lain  down  on  the  earth  to  rest, 
in  long  white  flakes  and  bars,  among  the  stems  of 
the  elm-trees,  and  along  the  tops  of  the  alders  by 
the  stream,  waiting  for  the  sun  to  bid  them  rise  and 
go  about  their  day's  business  in  the  clear  blue  overhead. 
On  they  went;  and  Tom  looked,  and  looked,  for 
he  never  had  been  so  far  into  the  country  before;  and 

[  23  ] 


THE  WATER-BABIES 

longed  to  get  over  a  gate,  and  pick  buttercups,  and 
look  for  birds'  nests  in  the  hedge;  but  Mr.  Grimes 
was  a  man  of  business,  and  would  not  have  heard  of 
that. 

Soon  they  came  up  with  a  poor  Irishwoman,  trudg- 
ing along  with  a  bundle  at  her  back.  She  had  a  gray 
shawl  over  her  head,  and  a  crimson  madder  petticoat; 
so  you  may  be  sure  she  came  from  Galway.  She  had 
neither  shoes  nor  stockings,  and  limped  along  as  if 
she  were  tired  and  footsore;  but  she  was  a  very  tall 
handsome  woman,  with  bright  gray  eyes,  and  heavy 
black  hair  hanging  about  her  cheeks.  And  she  took 
Mr.  Grimes'  fancy  so  much,  that  when  he  came  along- 
side he  called  out  to  her: 

"This  is  a  hard  road  for  a  gradely  foot  like  that. 
Will  ye  up,  lass,  and  ride  behind  me?" 

But,  perhaps,  she  did  not  admire  Mr.  Grimes' 
look  and  voice;  for  she  answered  quietly: 

"No,  thank  you:  I'd  sooner  walk  with  your  little 
lad  here." 

"You  may  please  yourself,"  growled  Grimes,  and 
went  on  smoking. 

So  she  walked  beside  Tom,  and  talked  to  him,  and 

[24] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

asked  him  where  he  lived,  and  what  he  knew,  and  all 
about  himself,  till  Tom  thought  he  had  never  met  such 
a  pleasant-spoken  woman.  And  she  asked  him,  at 
last,  whether  he  said  his  prayers!  and  seemed  sad 
when  he  told  her  that  he  knew  no  prayers  to  say. 

Then  he  asked  her  where  she  lived,  and  she  said 
far  away  by  the  sea.  And  Tom  asked  her  about  the 
sea;  and  she  told  him  how  it  rolled  and  roared  ovei 
the  rocks  in  winter  nights,  and  lay  still  in  the  bright 
summer  days,  for  the  children  to  bathe  and  play  in  it; 
and  many  a  story  more,  till  Tom  longed  to  go  and  see 
the  sea,  and  bathe  in  it  likewise. 

At  last,  at  the  bottom  of  a  hill,  they  came  to  a 
spring;  not  such  a  spring  as  you  see  here,  which  soaks 
up  out  of  a  white  gravel  in  the  bog,  among  red  fly- 
catchers, and  pink  bottle-heath,  and  sweet  white  orchis; 
nor  such  a  one  as  you  may  see,  too,  here,  which  bubbles 
up  under  the  warm  sandbank  in  the  hollow  lane,  by 
the  great  tuft  of  lady  ferns,  and  makes  the  sand  dance 
reels  at  the  bottom,  day  and  night,  all  the  year  round; 
not  such  a  spring  as  either  of  those;  but  a  real  North 
country  limestone  fountain,  like  one  of  those  in  Sicily 
or  Greece,  where  the  old  heathen  fancied  the  nymphs 

[25] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

sat  cooling  themselves  the  hot  summer's  day,  while 
the  shepherds  peeped  at  them  from  behind  the  bushes. 
Out  of  a  low  cave  of  rock,  at  the  foot  of  a  limestone 
crag,  the  great  fountain  rose,  quelling,  and  bubbling, 
and  gurgling,  so  clear  that  you  could  not  tell  where 
the  water  ended  and  the  air  began;  and  ran  away 
under  the  road,  a  stream  large  enough  to  turn  a  mill; 
among  blue  geranium,  and  golden  globe-flower,  and 
wild  raspberry,  and  the  bird-cherry  with  its  tassels  of 
snow. 

And  there  Grimes  stopped,  and  looked;  and  Tom 
looked  too.  Tom  was  wondering  whether  anything 
lived  in  that  dark  cave,  and  came  out  at  night  to  fly 
in  the  meadows.  But  Grimes  was  not  wondering  at 
all.  Without  a  word,  he  got  off  his  donkey,  and 
clambered  over  the  low  road  wall,  and  knelt  down, 
and  began  dipping  his  ugly  head  into  the  spring — and 
very  dirty  he  made  it. 

Tom  was  picking  the  flowers  as  fast  as  he  could 


[26] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


The  Irishwoman  helped  him,  and  showed  him  how  to 
tie  them  up;  and  a  very  pretty  nosegay  they  had 
made  between  them.  But  when  he  saw  Grimes  actu- 
ally wash,  he  stopped,  quite  astonished;  and  when 
Grimes  had  finished,  and  began  shaking  his  ears  to 
dry  them,  he  said: 

"Why,  master,  I  never  saw  you  do  that  before." 

"Nor  will  again,  most  likely.  'Twasn't  for  cleanli- 
ness I  did  it,  but  for  coolness.  I'd  be  ashamed  to  want 
washing  every  week  or  so,  like  any  smutty  collier  lad." 

"I  wish  I  might  go  and  dip  my  head  in,"  said  poor 
little  Tom.  "It  must  be  as  good  as  putting  it  under 
the  town-pump;  and  there  is  no  beadle  here  to  drive 
a  chap  away  " 

"Thou  come  along,"  said  Grimes;  "what  dost  want 
with  washing  thyself?  Thou  did  not  drink  half  a 
gallon  of  beer  last  night,  like  me." 

[  27] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"I  don't  care  for  you,"  said  naughty  Tom,  and  ran 
down  to  the  stream,  and  began  washing  his  face. 

Grimes  was  very  sulky,  because  the  woman  pre- 
ferred Tom's  company  to  his;  so  he  dashed  at  him 
with  horrid  words,  and  tore  him  up  from  his  knees, 
and  began  beating  him.  But  Tom  was  accustomed  to 
that,  and  got  his  head  safe  between  Mr.  Grimes'  legs, 
and  kicked  his  shins  with  all  his  might. 

'  'Are  you  not  ashamed  of  yourself,  Thomas  Grimes?" 
cried  the  Irishwoman  over  the  wall. 

Grimes  looked  up,  startled  at  her  knowing  his 
name;  but  all  he  answered  was,  "No,  nor  never  was 
yet;"  and  went  on  beating  Tom. 

"True  for  you.  If  you  ever  had  been  ashamed  of 
yourself,  you  would  have  gone  over  into  Vendale  long 
ago." 

"What  do  you  know  about  Vendale?"  shouted 
Grimes;  but  he  left  off  beating  Tom. 

"I  know  about  Vendale,  and  about  you,  too  I 
know,  for  instance,  what  happened  in  Aldermire  Copse, 
by  night,  two  years  ago  come  Martinmas." 

"You  do?"  shouted  Grimes;  and  leaving  Tom,  he 
climbed  up  over  the  wall,  and  faced  the  woman.     Tom 

[  28] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

thought  he  was  going  to  strike  her;  but  she  looked 
him  too  full  and  fierce  in  the  face  for  that. 

"Yes;  I  was  there,"  said  the  Irishwoman  quietly. 

"You  are  no  Irishwoman,  by  your  speech,"  said 
Grimes,  after  many  bad  words. 

"Never  mind  who  I  am.  I  saw  what  I  saw;  and 
if  you  strike  that  boy  again,  I  can  tell  what  I  know." 

Grimes  seemed  quite  cowed,  and  got  on  his  donkey 
without  another  word. 

"Stop!"  said  the  Irishwoman.  "I  have  one  more 
word  for  you  both;  for  you  will  both  see  me  again 
before  all  is  over.  Those  that  wish  to  be  clean,  clean 
they  will  be;  and  those  that  wish  to  be  foul,  foul  they 
will  be.     Remember." 

And  she  turned  away,  and  through  a  gate  into  the 
meadow.  Grimes  stood  still  a  moment,  like  a  man 
who  had  been  stunned.  Then  he  rushed  after  her, 
shouting,  "You  come  back."  But  when  he  got  into 
the  meadow,  the  woman  was  not  there. 

Had  she  hidden  away?  There  was  no  place  to  hide 
in.  But  Grimes  looked  about,  and  Tom  also,  for  he  was 
as  puzzled  as  Grimes  himself  at  her  disappearing  so 
suddenly;  but  look  where  they  would,  she  was  not  there. 

[29] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


Grimes  came  back  again,  as 
silent  as  a  post,  for  he  was  a 
little  frightened;  and,  getting 
on  his  donkey,  filled  a  fresh 
pipe,  and  smoked  away,  leav- 
ing Tom  in  peace. 

And  now  they  had  gone  three 
miles  and  more,  and  came  to 
Sir  John's  lodge-gates. 

Very  grand  lodges  they  were, 
with  very  grand  iron  gates  and 
stone  gate-posts,  and  on  the 
top  of  each  a  most  dreadful 
bogy,  all  teeth,  horns,  and  tail, 
which  was  the  crest  which  Sir 
John's  ancestors  wore  in  the 
Wars  of  the  Roses;  and  very 
prudent  men  they  were  to  wear 
it,  for  all  their  enemies  must 
have  run  for  their  lives  at  the 
very  first  sight  of  them. 

Grimes  rang  at  the  gate,  and 
out  came  a  keeper  on  the  spot, 
and  opened. 
[  30] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"I  was  told  to  expect  thee,"  he  said.  "Nowthou'lt 
be  so  good  as  to  keep  to  the  main  avenue,  and  not  let 
me  find  a  hare  or  a  rabbit  on  thee  when  thou  comest 
back.     I  shall  look  sharp  for  one,  I  tell  thee." 

"Not  if  it's  in  the  bottom  of  the  soot-bag,"  quoth 
Grimes,  and  at  that  he  laughed;  and  the  keeper  laughed 
and  said: 

"If  that's  thy  sort,  I  may  as  well  walk  up  with 
thee  to  the  hall." 

"I  think  thou  best  had.  It's  thy  business  to  see 
after  thy  game,  man,  and  not  mine." 

So  the  keeper  went  with  them;  and,  to  Tom's  sur- 
prise, he  and  Grimes  chatted  together  all  the  way  quite 
pleasantly.  He  did  not  know  that  a  keeper  is  only  a 
poacher  turned  outside  in,  and  a  poacher  a  keeper 
turned  inside  out. 

They  walked  up  a  great  lime  avenue,  a  full  mile 
long,  and  between  their  stems  Tom  peeped  trembling 
at  the  horns  of  the  sleeping  deer,  which  stood  up 
among  the  ferns.  Tom  had  never  seen  such  enormous 
trees,  and  as  he  looked  up  he  fancied  that  the  blue 
sky  rested  on  their  heads.  But  he  was  puzzled  very 
much  by  a  strange  murmuring  noise,  which  followed 

[  3i  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

them  all  the  way.  So  much  puzzled,  that  at  last  he 
took  courage  to  ask  the  keeper  what  it  was. 

He  spoke  very  civilly,  and  called  him  Sir,  for  he 
was  horribly  afraid  of  him,  which  pleased  the  keeper, 
and  he  told  him  that  they  were  the  bees  about  the 
lime  flowers. 

"What  are  bees?"  asked  Tom. 

"What  make  honey." 

"What  is  honey?"  asked  Tom. 

"Thou  hold  thy  noise,"  said  Grimes. 

"Let  the  boy  be,"  said  the  keeper.  "He's  a  civil 
young  chap  now,  and  that's  more  than  he'll  be  long  if 
he  bides  with  thee." 

Grimes  laughed,  for  he  took  that  for  a  compliment. 

"I  wish  I  were  a  keeper,"  said  Tom,  "to  live  in 
such  a  beautiful  place,  and  wear  green  velveteens  and 
have  a  real  dog-whistle  at  my  button,  like  you." 

The  keeper  laughed;  he  was  a  kind-hearted  fellow 
enough. 

"Let  well  alone,  lad,  and  ill  too  at  times.  Thy 
life's  safer  than  mine  at  all  events,  eh,  Mr.  Grimes?" 

And  Grimes  laughed  again,  and  then  the  two  men 
began  talking  quite  low.     Tom  could  hear,  though, 

[  32] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

that  it  was  about  some  poaching  fight;  and  at  last 
Grimes  said  surlily,  "Hast  thou  anything  against  me?" 

"Not  now." 

"Then  don't  ask  me  any  questions  till  thou  hast, 
for  I  am  a  man  of  honour." 

And  at  that  they  both  laughed  again,  and  thought 
it  a  very  good  joke. 

And  by  this  time  they  were  come  up  to  the  great 
iron  gates  in  front  of  the  house;  and  Tom  stared 
through  them  at  the  rhododendrons  and  azaleas,  which 
were  all  in  flower;  and  then  at  the  house  itself,  and 
wondered  how  many  chimneys  there  were  in  it,  and 
how  long  ago  it  was  built,  and  what  was  the  man's 
name  that  built  it,  and  whether  he  got  much  money 
for  his  job? 

But  Tom  and  his  master  did  not  go  in  through  the 
great  iron  gates,  as  if  they  had  been  Dukes  or  Bishops, 
but  round  the  back  way,  and  a  very  long  way  round  it 
was;  and  into  a  little  back-door,  where  the  ash-boy  let 
them  in,  yawning  horribly;  and  then  in  a  passage  the 
housekeeper  met  them,  in  such  a  flowered  chintz  dress- 
ing-gown, that  Tom  mistook  her  for  My  Lady  herself, 
and  she  gave  Grimes  solemn  orders  about  "You  will 

[  33  ] 


9 


J^"G*&Pe-P..iA'S-'™ 


pft 


^ 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

take  care  of  this,  and  take 
care  of  that,"  as  if  he  was 
going  up  the  chimneys,  and 
not  Tom.  And  Grimes 
listened,  and  said  every  now 
and  then,  under  his  voice, 
"You'll  mind  that,  you  lit- 
tle beggar?"  and  Tom  did 
mind,  all  at  least  that  he 
could.  And  then  the  house- 
keeper turned  them  into  a  grand  room,  all  covered  up 
in  sheets  of  brown  paper,  and  bade  them  begin,  in  a 
lofty  and  tremendous  voice;  and  so  after  a  whimper  or 
two,  and  a  kick  from  his  master,  into  the  grate  Tom 
went,  and  up  the  chimney,  while  a  housemaid  stayed 
in  the  room  to  watch  the  furniture;  to  whom  Mr. 
Grimes  paid  many  playful  and  chivalrous  compliments, 
but  met  with  very  slight  encouragement  in  return. 

How  many  chimneys  Tom  swept  I  cannot  say;  but 
he   swept  so  many  that  he  _^ 

got  quite  tired,  and  puzzled 
too,  for  they  were  not  like 
the  town  flues  to  which  he 

[  34] 


*i^* 


11  jj< 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

was  accustomed,  but  such  as  you  would  find — if  you 
would  only  get  up  them  and  look,  which  perhaps  you 
would  not  like  to  do — in  old  country-houses,  large  and 
crooked  chimneys,  which  had  been  altered  again  and 
again,  till  they  ran  one  into  another.  So  Tom  fairly 
lost  his  way  in  them;  not  that  he  cared  much  for  that, 
though  he  was  in  pitchy  darkness,  for  he  was  as  much 
at  home  in  a  chimney  as  a  mole  is  underground;  but 
at  last,  coming  down  as  he  thought  the  right  chimney, 
he  came  down  the  wrong  one,  and  found  himself  stand- 
ing on  the  hearthrug  in  a  room  the  like  of  which  he 
had  never  seen  before. 

Tom  had  never  seen  the  like.  He  had  never  been 
in  gentlefolks'  rooms  but  when  the  carpets  were  all  up, 
and  the  curtains  down,  and  the  furniture  huddled 
together  under  a  cloth,  and  the  pictures  covered  with 
aprons  and  dusters;  and  he  had  often  enough  wondered 
what  the  rooms  were  like  when  they  were  all  ready  for 
the  quality  to  sit  in.  And  now  he  saw,  and  he  thought 
the  sight  very  pretty. 

The  room  was  all  dressed  in  white, — white  window- 
curtains,  white  bed-curtains,  white  furniture,  and  white 
walls,  with  just  a  few  lines  of  pink  here  and  there. 

[  35  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

The  carpet  was  all  over  gay  little  flowers;  and  the 
walls  were  hung  with  pictures  in  gilt  frames,  which 
amused  Tom  very  much.  There  were  pictures  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  and  pictures  of  horses  and  dogs.  The 
horses  he  liked;  but  the  dogs  he  did  not  care  for  much, 
for  there  were  no  bull-dogs  among  them,  not  even  a 
terrier.  But  the  two  pictures  which  took  his  fancy 
most  were,  one  a  man  in  long  garments,  with  little 
children  and  their  mothers  round  him,  who  was  lay- 
ing his  hand  upon  the  children's  heads.  That  was 
a  very  pretty  picture,  Tom  thought,  to  hang  in  a  lady's 
room.  For  he  could  see  that  it  was  a  lady's  room  by 
the  dresses  which  lay  about. 

The  other  picture  was  that  of  a  man  nailed  to  a 
cross,  which  surprised  Tom  much.  He  fancied  that 
he  had  seen  something  like  it  in  a  shop-window.  But 
why  was  it  there?  "Poor  man,"  thought  Tom,  "and 
he  looks  so  kind  and  quiet.  But  why  should  the  lady 
have  such  a  sad  picture  as  that  in  her  room?  Perhaps 
it  was  some  kinsman  of  hers,  who  had  been  murdered 
by  the  savages  in  foreign  parts,  and  she  kept  it  there 
for  a  remembrance."  And  Tom  felt  sad,  and  awed, 
and  turned  to  look  at  something  else. 

[  36] 


"No.    She  cannot  be  dirty.    She  never  could 
have  been  dirty" 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

The  next  thing  he  saw,  and  that  too  puzzled  him, 
was  a  washing-stand,  with  ewers  and  basins,  and  soap 
and  brushes,  and  towels,  and  a  large  bath  full  of  clean 
water — what  a  heap  of  things  all  for  washing!  "She 
must  be  a  very  dirty  lady,"  thought  Tom,  "by  my 
master's  rule,  to  want  as  much  scrubbing  as  all  that. 
But  she  must  be  very  cunning  to  put  the  dirt  out  of 


the  way  so  well  afterwards,  for  I  don't  see  a  speck 
about  the  room,  not  even  on  the  very  towels." 

And  then,  looking  toward  the  bed,  he  saw  that 
dirty  lady,  and  held  his  breath  with  astonishment. 

Under  the  snow-white  coverlet,  upon  the  snow- 
white  pillow,  lay  the  most  beautiful  little  girl  that  Tom 
had  ever  seen.     Her  cheeks  were  almost  as  white  as 

[  37  ] 


r 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

the  pillow,  and  her  hair  was  like  threads  of  gold  spread 
all  about  over  the  bed.  She  might  have  been  as  old 
as  Tom,  or  maybe  a  year  or  two  older;  but  Tom  did 
not  think  of  that.  He  thought  only  of  her  delicate 
skin  and  golden  hair,  and  wondered  whether  she  was 
a  real  live  person,  or  one  of  the  wax  dolls  he  had  seen 
in  the  shops.  But  when  he  saw  her  breathe,  he  made 
up  his  mind  that  she  was  alive,  and  stood  staring  at 
her,  as  if  she  had  been  an  angel  out  of  heaven. 

No.  She  cannot  be  dirty.  She  never  could  have 
been  dirty,  thought  Tom  to  himself.  And  then  he 
thought,  "And  are  all  people  like  that  when  they  are 
washed?"  And  he  looked  at  his  own  wrist,  and  tried 
to  rub  the  soot  off,  and  wondered  whether  it  ever  would 
come  off.  "Certainly  I  should  look  much  prettier 
then,  if  I  grew  at  all  like  her." 

And  looking  round,  he  suddenly  saw,  standing  close 
to  him,  a  little  ugly,  black,  ragged  figure,  with  bleared 
eyes  and  grinning  white  teeth.  He  turned  on  it  angrily. 
What  did  such  a  little  black  ape  want  in  that  sweet 
young  lady's  room?  And  behold,  it  was  himself,  re- 
flected in  a  great  mirror  the  like  of  which  Tom  had 
never  seen  before. 

[  38  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


And  Tom,  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life,  found  out 
that  he  was  dirty;  and  burst 
into  tears  with  shame  and 
anger;  and  turned  to  sneak 
up  the  chimney  again  and 
hide;  and  upset  the  fender 
and  threw  the  fire-irons  down, 
with  a  noise  as  of  ten  thou- 
sand tin  kettles  tied  to  ten 
thousand  mad  dogs'  tails. 

Up    jumped     the     little 
white  lady  in  her  bed,  and,  seeing  Tom,  screamed  as 
shrill  as  any  peacock.     In  rushed  a  stout  old  nurse 
from  the  next  room,  and  seeing  Tom  likewise,  made  up 
her  mind  that  he  had  come  to  rob,  plunder,  destroy, 

and  burn;  and  dashed  at  him, 
as  he  lay  over  the  fender,  so 
fast  that  she  caught  him  by 
the  jacket. 

But    she    did    not    hold 
him.      Tom    had    been    in    a 
policeman's    hands     many    a 
[  39  ] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

time,  and  out  of  them  too,  what  is  more;  and  he  would 
have  been  ashamed  to  face  his  friends  for  ever  if  he  had 
been  stupid  enough  to  be  caught  by  an  old  woman; 
so  he  doubled  under  the  good  lady's  arm,  across  the 
room,  and  out  of  the  window  in  a  moment. 

He  did  not  need  to  drop  out,  though  he  would  have 
done  so  bravely  enough.  Nor  even  to  let  himself 
down  a  spout,  which  would  have  been  an  old  game  to 
him;  for  once  he  got  up  by  a  spout  to  the  church  roof, 
he  said  to  take  jackdaws'  eggs,  but  the  policeman 
said  to  steal  lead;  and,  when  he  was  seen  on  high,  sat 
there  till  the  sun  got  too  hot,  and  came  down  by 
another  spout,  leaving  the  policemen  to  go  back  to  the 
stationhouse  and  eat  their  dinners. 

But  all  under  the  window  spread  a  tree,  with  great 
leaves  and  sweet  white  flowers,  almost  as  big  as  his 
head.  It  was  magnolia,  I  suppose;  but  Tom  knew 
nothing  about  that,  and  cared  less;  for  down  the  tree 
he  went,  like  a  cat,  and  across  the  garden  lawn,  and 
over  the  iron  railings,  and  up  the  park  towards  the 
wood,  leaving  the  old  nurse  to  scream  murder  and  fire 
at  the  window. 

The  under  gardener,  mowing,  saw  Tom,  and  threw 

[40] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 


down  his  scythe;  caught  his  leg  in  it,  and  cut  his  shin 
open,  whereby  he  kept  his  bed  for  a  week;  but  in  his 
hurry  he  never  knew  it,  and  gave 
chase  to  poor  Tom.  The  dairy- 
maid heard  the  noise,  got  the  churn 
between  her  knees,  and  tumbled 
over  it,  spilling  all  the  cream;  and 
yet  she  jumped  up,  and  gave  chase 
to  Tom.  A  groom  cleaning  Sir 
John's  hack  at  the  stables  let 
him  go  loose,  whereby  he  kicked 
himself  lame  in  five  minutes;  but 
he  ran  out  and  gave  chase  to 
Tom.  Grimes  upset  the  soot- 
sack  in  the  new-gravelled  yard, 
and  spoilt  it  all  utterly;  but 
he  ran  out  and  gave  chase 
to  Tom.  The  old  steward 
opened  the  park-gate  in  such 
a  hurry,  that  he  hung  up 
his  pony's  chin  upon  the 
spikes,  and,  for  aught  I 
know,   it  hangs   there  still; 

[41  J 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


but  he  jumped  off,  and  gave  chase  to  Tom.  The  plough- 
man left  his  horses  at  the  headland,  and  one  jumped  over 
the  fence,  and  pulled  the  other  into  the  ditch,  plough  and 
all ;  but  he  ran  on,  and  gave  chase  to  Tom.  The  keeper, 
who  was  taking  a  stoat  out  of  a  trap,  let  the  stoat  go, 
and  caught  his  own  finger;  but  he  jumped  up,  and  ran 
after  Tom;  and  considering  what  he  said,  and  how  he 
looked,  I  should  have  been  sorry  for  Tom  if  he  had 
caught  him.  Sir  John  looked  out  of  his  study  window 
(for  he  was  an  early  old  gentleman)  and  up  at  the  nurse, 
and  a  marten  dropped  mud  in  his  eye,  so  that  he  had  at 
last  to  send  for  the  doctor;  and  yet  he  ran  out,  and  gave 
chase  to  Tom.  The  Irishwoman,  too,  was  walking  up 
to  the  house  to  beg, — she  must  have  got  round  by  some 

[42  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

byway, — but  she  threw  away  her  bundle,  and  gave 
chase  to  Tom  likewise.  Only  my  Lady  did  not  give 
chase;  for  when  she  had  put  her  head  out  of  the  window, 
her  night-wig  fell  into  the  garden,  and  she  had  to  ring 
up  her  lady's-maid,  and  send  her  down  for  it  privately, 
which  quite  put  her  out  of  the  running,  so  that  she 
came  in  nowhere,  and  is  consequently  not  placed. 

In  a  word,  never  was  there  heard  at  Hall  Place — 
not  even  when  the  fox  was  killed  in  the  conservatory, 
among  acres  of  broken  glass,  and  tons  of  smashed 
flower-pots — such  a  noise,  row,  hubbub,  babel,  shindy, 
hullabaloo,  stramash,  charivari,  and  total  contempt  of 
dignity,  repose,  and  order,  as  that  day,  when  Grimes, 
the  gardener,  the  groom,  the  dairymaid,  Sir  John,  the 
steward,  the  ploughman,  the  keeper,  and  the  Irish- 
woman, all  ran  up  the  park,  shouting  "Stop  thief,"  in 
the  belief  that  Tom  had  at  least  a  thousand  pounds' 
worth  of  jewels  in  his  empty  pockets;  and  the  very 
magpies  and  jays  followed  Tom  up,  screaking  and 
screaming,  as  if  he  were  a  hunted  fox,  beginning  to 
droop  his  brush. 

And  all  the  while  poor  Tom  paddled  up  the  park 
with  his  little  bare  feet,   like  a  small  black  gorilla 

[43  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

fleeing  to  the  forest.  Alas  for  him!  there  was  no  big 
father  gorilla  therein  to  take  his  part — to  scratch  out 
the  gardener's  inside  with  one  paw,  toss  the  dairymaid 
into  a  tree  with  another,  and  wrench  off  Sir  John's  head 
with  a  third,  while  he  cracked  the  keeper's  skull  with 
his  teeth  as  easily  as  if  it  had  been  a  cocoa-nut  or  a 
paving-stone. 

However,  Tom  did  not  remember  ever  having  had  a 
father;  so  he  did  not  look  for  one,  and  expected  to 
have  to  take  care  of  himself;  while  as  for  running,  he 
could  keep  up  for  a  couple  of  miles  with  any  stage- 
coach, if  there  was  the  chance  of  a  copper  or  a  cigar- 
end,  and  turn  coach-wheels  on  his  hands  and  feet  ten 
times  following,  which  is  more  than  you  can  do.  Where- 
fore his  pursuers  found  it  very  difficult  to  catch  him; 
and  we  will  hope  that  they  did  not  catch  him  at  all. 

Tom,  of  course,  made  for  the  woods.  He  had  never 
been  in  a  wood  in  his  life;  but  he  was  sharp  enough 
to  know  that  he  might  hide  in  a  bush,  or  swarm  up  a 
tree,  and,  altogether,  had  more  chance  there  than  in 
the  open.  If  he  had  not  known  that,  he  would  have 
been  foolisher  than  a  mouse  or  a  minnow. 

But  when  he  got  into  the  wood,  he  found  it  a  very 

[44  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


different  sort  of  place  from  what  he  had  fancied.  He 
pushed  into  a  thick  cover  of  rhododendrons,  and  found 
himself  at  once  caught  in  a  trap.  The  boughs  laid 
hold  of  his  legs  and  arms,  poked  him  in  his  face  and 
his  stomach,  made  him  shut  his  eyes  tight  (though 
that  was  no  great  loss,  for  he  could  not  see  at  best  a 
yard  before  his  nose) ;  and  when  he  got  through  the 
rhododendrons,  the  hassock-grass  and  sedges  tumbled 
him  over,  and  cut  his  poor  little  fingers  afterwards 
most  spitefully;  the  birches  birched  him  soundly. 

"I  must  get  out  of  this,"  thought  Tom,  "or  I  shall 
stay  here  till  somebody  comes  to  help  me — which  is 
just  what  I  don't  want." 

But  how  to  get  out  was  the  difficult  matter.  And 
indeed  I  don't  think  he  would  ever  have  got  out  at 

[45  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

all,  but  have  stayed  there  till  the  cock-robins  covered 
him  with  leaves,  if  he  had  not  suddenly  run  his  head 
against  a  wall. 

Now  running  your  head  against  a  wall  is  not 
pleasant,  especially  if  it  is  a  loose  wall,  with  the  stones 
all  set  on  edge,  and  a  sharp  cornered  one  hits  you 
between  the  eyes  and  makes  you  see  all  manner  of 
beautiful  stars.  The  stars  are  very  beautiful,  certainly; 
but  unfortunately  they  go  in  the  twenty-thousandth 
part  of  a  split  second,  and  the  pain  which  comes  after 
them  does  not.  And  so  Tom  hurt  his  head;  but  he 
was  a  brave  boy,  and  did  not  mind  that  a  penny.  He 
guessed  that  over  the  wall  the  cover  would  end;  and 
up  it  he  went,  and  over  like  a  squirrel. 

And  there  he  was,  out  on  the  great  grouse-moors, 
which  the  country  folk  called  Harthover  Fell — heather 
and  bog  and  rock,  stretching  away  and  up,  up  to  the 
very  sky. 

Now,  Tom  was  a  cunning  little  fellow — as  cunning 


[46] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

as  an  old  Exmoor  stag.  Why  not?  Though  he  was 
but  ten  years  old,  he  had  lived  longer  than  most  stags, 
and  had  more  wits  to  start  with  into  the  bargain. 

He  knew  as  well  as  a  stag  that  if  he  backed  he 
might  throw  the  hounds  out.  So  the  first  thing  he 
did  when  he  was  over  the  wall  was  to  make  the  neatest 
double  sharp  to  his  right,  and  run  along  under  the 
wall  for  nearly  half  a  mile. 

Whereby  Sir  John,  and  the  keeper,  and  the  stew- 
ard, and  the  gardener,  and  the  ploughman,  and  the 
dairymaid,  and  all  the  hue-and-cry  together,  went  on 
ahead  half  a  mile  in  the  very  opposite  direction,  and 
inside  the  wall,  leaving  him  a  mile  off  on  the  outside; 
while  Tom  heard  their  shouts  die  away  in  the  woods 
and  chuckled  to  himself  merrily. 

At  last  he  came  to  a  dip  in  the  land,  and  went  to 
the  bottom  of  it,  and  then  he  turned  bravely  away 
from  the  wall  and  up  the  moor;  for  he  knew  that  he 
had  put  a  hill  between  him  and  his  enemies,  and  could 
go  on  without  their  seeing  him. 

But  the  Irishwoman,  alone  of  them  all,  had  seen 
which  way  Tom  went.  She  had  kept  ahead  of  every 
one  the  whole  time;  and  yet  she  neither  walked  nor 

[47  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

-  %  ~  ran.     She  went  along  quite  smoothly  and 

£°qQ  \  gracefully,   while    her    feet    twinkled    past 

cvvi:  Q  each  other  so  fast  that  you  could  not  see 

Va%v  . 

\  -sin  which  was  foremost;    till  every  one  asked 

Os0°^-V  the  other  who  the  strange  woman  was;  and 

QQ?  gH  all  agreed,  for  want  of  anything  better  to 


b     «' 


AX*  ii  %  say>  that  sne  must  be  in  league  with  Tom. 

Vf H    *  ^ut  when  she  came  to  the  plantation, 

I'kt*      ?         they  lost  sight  of  her;  and  they  could  do 

}i!o:i    "•/  no  less-       For  she  went  quietly  over  the 

wall  after  Tom,  and  followed  him  wherever 

he  went.     Sir  John   and   the  rest  saw  no 

more  of  her;   and  out  of  sight  was  out  of 

VTW?,  \f         mind. 

f^iO^!   -I.  And   now  Tom  was   right  away  into 

*\>         the  heather.     There  were  rocks  and  stones 


:I  I  V/   I  lymg  about  everywhere,  and  instead  of  the 

,?^V^^'°  moor  growing  flat  as  he  went  upwards,  it 

rviii°  c/  grew   more   and    more   broken   and    hilly, 

i/Q.  /  but  not  so  rough  but  that  little  Tom  could 


[48  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


jog  along  well  enough,  and  find  time,  too,  to  stare 
about  at  the  strange  place,  which  was  like  a  new  world 
to  him. 

He  saw  great  spiders  there,  with  crowns  and  crosses 
marked  on  their  backs,  who  sat  in  the  middle  of  their 
webs,  and  when  they  saw  Tom  coming,  shook  them  so 
fast  that  they  became  invisible.  Then  he  saw  lizards, 
brown  and  gray  and  green,  and  thought  they  were 
snakes,  and  would  sting  him;  but  they  were  as  much 
frightened  as  he,  and  shot  away  into  the  heath.  And 
then,  under  a  rock,  he  saw  a  pretty  sight — a  great 
brown,  sharp-nosed  creature,  with  a  white  tag  to  her 
brush,  and  round  her  four  or  five  smutty  little  cubs, 
the  funniest  fellows  Tom  ever  saw.  She  lay  on  her 
back,  rolling  about,  and  stretching  out  her  legs  and 
head  and  tail  in  the  bright  sunshine;  and  the  cubs 
ju  nped  over  her,  and  ran  round  her,  and  nibbled  her 
paws,  and  lugged  her  about  by  the  tail;  and  she  seemed 

[49] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


to  enjoy  it  mightily.     But  one  selfish  little 

fellow  stole  away  from  the  rest  to  a  dead 

crow  close  by,  and  dragged  it  off  to  hide  it, 

though  it  was  nearly  as  big  as  he  was. 

Whereat  all  his  little  brothers  set  off 

after  him  in  full  cry,  and  saw  Tom; 

and  then  all  ran  back,  and 

up  jumped  Mrs.  Vixen,  and 

caught  one  up  in  her  mouth, 

and    the   rest    toddled    after 

her,  and   into  a  dark   crack 

in  the  rocks;  and  there  was 

an  end  of  the  show. 

And  next  he  had  a  fright; 
for,   as    he   scrambled    up   a 
sandy     brow  —  whirr-poof-poof-cock- 
kick — something  went  off   in   his 
face,   with   a   most   horrid   noise.     He 
thought  the  ground  had  blown  up,  and 
the  end  of  the  world  come. 

And  when   he   opened   his  eyes    (for 
he  shut  them  very  tight)  it  was  only  an 
old   cock-grouse,  who  had   been  washing 
[  50] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


himself  in  sand,  like  an  Arab,  for  want  of 

water;   and  who,   when  Tom    had   all    but 

trodden   on   him,  jumped  up  with   a  noise 

like    the   express    train,   leaving   his   wife 

and  children   to  shift  for   themselves, 

like    an    old    coward,   and   went    off. 

screaming  "Cur-ru-u-uck,  cur- 

ru-u-uck  —  murder,    thieves, 

fire  —  cur-u-uck-cock-kick  — 

the  end  of  the  world  is  come 

— kick-kick-cock-kick."       He 

was  always  fancying  that  the 

end  of  the  world  was  come, 

when     anything      happened 

which   was  farther  off   than 

the  end  of  his  own  nose.     But  the  end 

of  the  world  was  not  come;  though  the 

old  grouse-cock  was  quite  certain  of  it. 

So  the  old  grouse  came  back  to 
his  wife  and  family  an  hour  afterwards, 
and  said  solemnly,   "Cock-cock-kick;  my 
dears,    the   end    of  the  world  is  not  quite 
come;  but  I  assure  you  it  is  coming  the  day 

[  5i  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


after  to-morrow — cock."  But  his  wife  had  heard 
that  so  often  that  she  knew  all  about  it,  and  a  little 
more.  And,  besides,  she  was  the  mother  of  a  family, 
and  had  seven  little  poults  to  wash  and  feed  every 
day;  and  that  made  her  very  practical,  and  a  little 
sharp- tempered;  so  all  she  answered  was:  "Kick-kick- 
kick — go  and  catch  spiders,  go  and  catch  spiders — 
kick." 

So  Tom  went  on  and  on,  he  hardly  knew  why;  but 
he  liked  the  great  wide  strange  place,  and  the  cool 
fresh  bracing  air.  But  he  went  more  and  more  slowly 
as  he  got  higher  up  the  hill;  for  now  the  ground  grew 
very  bad  indeed.  Instead  of  soft  turf  and  springy 
heather,  he  met  great  patches  of  flat  limestone  rock, 
just  like  ill-made  pavements,  with  deep  cracks  between 
the  stones  and  ledges,  rilled  with  ferns;  so  he  had  to 

hop  from  stone  to  stone,  and 
now  and  then  he  slipped  in 
between,  and  hurt  his  little 
bare  toes,  though 


they  were  tolera- 
bly tough 
ones ;   but 


[  52] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

still   he   would    go   on    and 
up,  he  could  not  tell  why 

What  would  Tom  have 
said  if  he  had  seen,  walking  over 
the  moor  behind  him,  the  very 
same  Irishwoman  who  had  taken 
his  part  upon  the  road?  But 
whether  it  was  that  he  looked  too  little  behind  him,  or 
whether  it  was  that  she  kept  out  of  sight  behind  the 
rocks  and  knolls,  he  never  saw  her,  though  she  saw 
him. 

And  now  he  began  to  get  a  little  hungry,  and  very 
thirsty;  for  he  had  run  a  long  way,  and  the  sun  had 
risen  high  in  heaven,  and  the  rock  was  as  hot  as  an 
oven,  and  the  air  danced  reels  over  it,  as  it  does  over 
a  limekiln,  till  everything  round  seemed  quivering  and 
melting  in  the  glare. 

But  he  could  see  nothing  to  eat  anywhere,  and  still 
less  to  drink. 

The  heath  was  full  of  bilberries  and  whimberries; 
but  they  were  only  in  flower  yet,  for  it  was  June.  And 
as  for  water,  who  can  find  that  on  the  top  of  a  lime- 
stone rock?     Now  and  then  he  passed  by  a  deep  dark 

[  S3  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Swallow-hole,  going  down  into  the  earth,  as  if  it  was 
the  chimney  of  some  dwarf's  house  underground;  and 
more  than  once,  as  he  passed,  he  could  hear  water 
falling,  trickling,  tinkling,  many  many  feet  below. 
How  he  longed  to  get  down  to  it,  and  cool  his  poor 
baked  lips!  But,  brave  little  chimney-sweep  as  he 
was,  he  dared  not  climb  down  such  chimneys  as  those. 

So  he  went  on  and  on,  till  his  head  spun  round 
with  the  heat,  and  he  thought  he  heard  church-bells 
ringing,  a  long  way  off. 

"Ah!"  he  thought,  "where  there  is  a  church  there 
will  be  houses  and  people;  and,  perhaps,  some  one 
will  give  me  a  bit  and  a  sup."  So  he  set  off  again,  to 
look  for  the  church;  for  he  was  sure  that  he  heard 
the  bells  quite  plain. 

And  in  a  minute  more,  when  he  looked  round,  he 
stopped  again,  and  said,  "Why,  what  a  big  place  the 
world  is!" 

And  so  it  was;  for,  from  the  top  of  the  mountain 
he  could  see — what  could  he  not  see? 

Behind  him,  far  below,  was  Harthover,  and  the 
dark  woods,  and  the  shining  salmon  river;  and  on  his 
left,  far  below,  was  the  town,  and  the  smoking  chimneys 

[  54] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


of   the   collieries;   and   far,  far  away, 
the   river  widened   to   the  shin- 
ing sea;   and  little  white  specks, 
which    were    ships,    lay    on    its 
bosom.     Before    him   lay, 
spread  out  like  a  map, 
great  plains,  and  farms, 
and  villages,  amid  dark 
knots  of  trees.     They  all 
seemed  at  his  very  feet;  but 
he   had   sense   to   see    that  they 
were  long  miles  away. 

And  to  his  right  rose  moor  after 
moor,  hill  after  hill,  till  they  faded 
away,  blue  into  blue  sky.  But  be- 
tween him  and  those  moors,  and 
really  at  his  very  feet,  lay  something, 
to  which,  as  soon  as  Tom  saw  it,  he  determined  to  go, 
for  that  was  the  place  for  him. 

A  deep,  deep  green  and  rocky  valley,  very  narrow, 
and  filled  with  wood;  but  through  the  wood,  hundreds 
of  feet  below  him,  he  could  see  a  clear  stream  glance. 
Oh,  if  he  could  but  get  down  to  that  stream!     Then, 

[  55  1 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

by  the  stream,  he  saw  the  roof  of  a  little  cottage,  and 
a  little  garden  set  out  in  squares  and  beds.  And 
there  was  a  tiny  little  red  thing  moving  in  the  garden, 
no  bigger  than  a  fly.  As  Tom  looked  down,  he  saw 
that  it  was  a  woman  in  a  red  petticoat.  Ah!  perhaps 
she  would  give  him  something  to  eat.  And  there 
were  the  church-bells  ringing  again.  Surely  there  must 
be  a  village  down  there.  Well,  nobody  would  know 
him,  or  what  had  happened  at  the  Place.  The  news 
could  not  have  got  there  yet,  even  if  Sir  John  had 
set  all  the  policemen  in  the  county  after  him;  and  he 
could  get  down  there  in  five  minutes. 

Tom  wasquite  right  about  the  hue-and-cry  not  hav- 
ing got  thither;  for  he  had  come,  without  knowing  it,  the 
best  part  of  ten  miles  from  Harthover;  but  he  was  wrong 
about  getting  down  in  five  minutes,  for  the  cottage  was 
more  than  a  mile  off,  and  a  good  thousand  feet  below. 

However,  down  he  went,  like  a  brave  little  man  as 
he  was,  though  he  was  very  footsore,  and  tired,  and 
hungry,  and  thirsty;  while  the  church-bells  rang  so 
loud,  he  began  to  think  that  they  must  be  inside  his 
own  head,  and  the  river  chimed  and  tinkled  far  below; 
and  this  was  the  song  which  it  sang: — 

[  56] 


THE   WATER- BABIES 


Clear  and  cool,  clear  and  cool, 

By  laughing  shallow,  and  dreaming  pool; 
Cool  and  clear,  cool  and  clear, 
By  shining  shingle,  and  foaming  weir; 
Under  the  crag  where  the  ouzel  sings, 
And  the  ivied  wall  where  the  church-bell  rings, 
Undefiled,  for  the  undefiled; 
Play  by  me,  bathe  in  me,  mother  and  child. 

I  57  } 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

Dank  and  foul,  dank  and  foul, 
By  the  smoky  town  in  its  murky  cowl; 

Foul  and  dank,  foul  and  dank, 
By  wharf  and  sewer  and  slimy  bank; 
Darker  and  darker  the  farther  I  go, 
Baser  and  baser  the  richer  I  grow; 

Who  dare  sport  with  the  sin-defiled? 
Shrink  from  me,  turn  from  me,  mother  and  child. 

Strong  and  free,  strong  and  free, 
The  floodgates  are  open,  away  to  the  sea, 

Free  and  strong,  free  and  strong, 
Cleansing  my  streams  as  I  hurry  along, 
To  the  golden  sands,  and  the  leaping  bar, 
And  the  taintless  tide  that  awaits  me  afar. 


i  58  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

As  I  lose  myself  in  the  infinite  main, 
Like  a  soul  that  has  sinned  and  is  pardoned  again. 
Undefiled,  for  the  undefiled; 
Play  by  me,  bathe  in  me,  mother  and  child. 

So  Tom  went  down;  and  all  the  while  he  never 
saw  the  Irishwoman  going  down  behind  him. 


[  59] 


CHAPTER    II 


AMILE  off,  and  a  thousand  feet  down. 
So  Tom  found  it;  though  it  seemed 
as  if  he  could  have  chucked  a  pebble  on 
to  the  back  of  the  woman  in  the  red 
petticoat  who  was  weeding  in  the  garden,  or  even 
across  the  dale  to  the  rocks  beyond.  For  the  bot- 
tom of  the  valley  was  just  one  field  broad,  and  on 
the  other  side  ran  the  stream;  and  above  it,  gray  crag, 
gray  down,  gray  stair,  gray  moor  walled  up  to  heaven. 
A  quiet,  silent,  rich,  happy  place;  a  narrow  crack 
cut  deep  into  the  earth;  so  deep,  and  so  out  of  the 
way,  that  the  bad  bogies  can  hardly  find  it  out.  The 
name  of  the  place  is  Vendale. 

[^  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

So  Tom  went  to  go  down;  and  first  he  went  down 
three  hundred  feet  of  steep  heather,  mixed  up  with 
loose  brown  gritstone,  as  rough  as  a  file;  which  was 
not  pleasant  to  his  poor  little  heels,  as  he  came  bump, 
stump,  jump,  down  the  steep.  And  still  he  thought 
he  could  throw  a  stone  into  the  garden. 

Then  he  went  down  three  hundred  feet  of  lime- 
stone terraces,  one  below  the  other,  as  straight  as  if  a 
carpenter  had  ruled  them  with  his  ruler  and  then  cut 
them  out  with  his  chisel.  There  was  no  heath  there, 
but- 
First,  a  little  grass  slope,  covered  with  the  prettiest 
flowers,  rockrose  and  saxifrage,  and  thyme  and  basil, 
and  all  sorts  of  sweet  herbs. 

Then  bump  down  a  two-foot  step  of  limestone. 

Then  another  bit  of  grass  and  flowers. 

Then  bump  down  a  one-foot  step. 

Then  another  bit  of  grass  and  flowers  for  fifty 
yards,  as  steep  as  the  house-roof,  where  he  had  to 
slide  down  on  his  dear  little  tail. 

Then  another  step  of  stone,  ten  feet  high;  and 
there  he  had  to  stop  himself,  and  crawl  along  the  edge 
to  find  a  crack;  for  if  he  had  rolled  over,  he  would 

[64] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

have  rolled  right  into  the  old  woman's  garden,  and 
frightened  her  out  of  her  wits. 

Then,  when  he  had  found  a  dark  narrow  crack,  full 
of  green-stalked  fern,  such  as  hangs  in  the  basket  in 
the  drawing-room,  and  had  crawled  down  through  it, 
with  knees  and  elbows,  as  he  would  down  a  chimney, 


there  was  another  grass  slope,  and  another  step,  and  so 
on,  till — oh,  dear  me!  I  wish  it  was  all  over;  and 
so  did  he.  And  yet  he  thought  he  could  throw  a 
stone  into  the  old  woman's  garden. 

At  last  he  came  to  a  bank  of  beautiful  shrubs;  white- 

[6S  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

beam  with  its  great  silver-backed  leaves,  and  mountain- 
ash,  and  oak;  and  below  them  cliff  and  crag,  cliff  and 
crag,  with  great  beds  of  crown-ferns  and  wood-sedge; 
while  through  the  shrubs  he  could  see  the  stream 
sparkling,  and  hear  it  murmur  on  the  white  pebbles. 
He  did  not  know  that  it  was  three  hundred  feet  below. 

You  would  have  been  giddy,  perhaps,  at  looking 
down:  but  Tom  was  not.  He  was  a  brave  little  chim- 
ney-sweep; and  when  he  found  himself  on  the  top 
of  a  high  cliff,  instead  of  sitting  down  and  crying, 
he  said,  "Ah,  this  will  just  suit  me!"  though  he  was 
very  tired;  and  down  he  went,  by  stock  and  stone, 
sedge  and  ledge,  bush  and  rush,  as  if  he  had  been 
born  a  jolly  little  black  ape,  with  four  hands  instead 
of  two. 

And  all  the  while  he  never  saw  the  Irishwoman 
coming  down  behind  him. 

But  he  was  getting  terribly  tired  now.     The  burn- 
ing sun  on  the  fells 
sucked     him 
but  the  damp 


[66] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

heat  of  the  woody  crag  sucked  him  up  still  more; 
and  the  perspiration  ran  out  of  the  ends  of  his  fingers 
and.  toes,  and  washed  him  cleaner  than  he  had  been 
for  a  whole  year.  But,  of  course,  he  dirtied  everything 
terribly  as  he  went.  There  has  been  a  great  black 
smudge  all  down  the  crag  ever  since.  And  there  have 
been  more  black  beetles  in  Vendale  since  than  ever 
were  known  before;  all,  of  course,  owing  to  Tom's 
having  blacked  the  original  papa  of  them  all,  just 
as  he  was  setting  off  to  be  married,  with  a  sky-blue 
coat  and  scarlet  leggings,  as  smart  as  a  gardener's 
dog  with  a  polyanthus  in  his  mouth. 

At  last  he  got  to  the  bottom.  But,  behold,  it  was 
not  the  bottom — as  people  usually  find  when  they  are 
coming  down  a  mountain.  For  at  the  foot  of  the  crag 
were  heaps  and  heaps  of  fallen  limestone  of  every  size 
from  that  of  your  head  to  that  of  a  stage-waggon, 
with  holes  between  them  full  of  sweet  heath-fern;  and 
before  Tom  got  through  them,  he  was  out  in  the  bright 
sunshine  again;  and  then  he  felt,  once  for  all  and  sud- 
denly, as  people  generally  do,  that  he  was  b-e-a-t,  beat. 

You  must  expect  to  be  beat  a  few  times  in  your 
life,  little  man,  if  you  live  such  a  life  as  a  man  ought 

[  67  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


to  live,  let  you  be  as  strong  and 

healthy  as  you  may:    and  when 

you  are,  you  will  find  it  a  very 

ugly  feeling.     I  hope   that    that 

day    you    may    have    a     stout 

staunch  friend  by  you  who  is  not  beat;  for,  if 

you  have  not,  you  had  best  lie  where  you  are, 

and  wait  for  better  times,  as  poor  Tom  did. 

He  could  not  get  on.  The  sun  was  burn- 
ing, and  yet  he  felt  chill  all  over.  He  was 
quite  empty,  and  yet  he  felt  quite  sick.  There 
was  but  two  hundred  yards  of  smooth  pasture 
between  him  and  the  cottage,  and  yet  he  could 
not  walk  down  it.  He  could  hear  the  stream 
murmuring  only  one  field  beyond  it,  and  yet 
it  seemed  to  him  as  if  it  was  a  hundred  miles  off. 
He  lay  down  on  the  grass  till  the  beetles 
ran  over  him,  and  the  flies  settled  on  his  nose. 
I  don't  know  when  he  would  have  got  up  again, 
if  the  gnats  and  the  midges  had  not  taken  com- 
passion on  him.  But  the  gnats  blew  their 
trumpets  so  loud  in  his  ear,  and  the  midges 
nibbled  so  at  his  hands  and  face  wherever  they 
[68  1 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


could  find  a  place  free  from  soot, 
that  at  last  he  woke  up,  and 
stumbled  away,  down  over  a  low 
wall,  and  into  a  narrow  road,  and 
up  to  the  cottage-door. 

And  a  neat  pretty  cottage  it  was,  with 
clipped  yew  hedges  all  round  the  garden,  and 
yews  inside  too,  cut  into  peacocks  and  trum- 
pets and  teapots  and  all  kinds  of  queer  shapes. 
And  out  of  the  open  door  came  a  noise  like 
that  of  the  frogs  when  they  know  that  it  is 
going  to  be  scorching  hot  to-morrow — and  how 
they  know  that  I  don't  know,  and  you  don't 
know,  and  nobody  knows. 

He  came  slowly  up  to  the  open  door, 
which  was  all  hung  round  with  clematis  and 
roses;  and  then  peeped  in,  half  afraid. 

And  there  sat  by  the  empty  fireplace, 
which  was  filled  with  a  pot  of  sweet  herbs,  the 
nicest  old  woman  that  ever  was  seen,  in  her 
red  petticoat,  and  short  dimity  bedgown,  and 
clean  white  cap,  with  a  black  silk  handkerchief 
over  it,  tied  under  her  chin.     At  her  feet   sat 

[  69  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

the  grandfather  of  all  the  cats;  and  opposite  her  sat, 
on  two  benches,  twelve  or  fourteen  neat,  rosy,  chubby 
little  children,  learning  their  Chris-cross-row;  and 
gabble  enough  they  made  about  it. 

Such  a  pleasant  cottage  it  was,  with  a  shiny  clean 
stone  floor,  and  curious  old  prints  on  the  walls,  and  an 
old  black  oak  sideboard  full  of  bright  pewter  and  brass 
dishes,  and  a  cuckoo  clock  in  the  corner,  which  began 
shouting  as  soon  as  Tom  appeared:  not  that  it  was 
frightened  at  Tom,  but  that  it  was  just  eleven  o'clock. 

All  the  children  started  at  Tom's  dirty  black 
figure, — the  girls  began  to  cry,  and  the  boys  began  to 
laugh,  and  all  pointed  at  him  rudely  enough;  but  Tom 
was  too  tired  to  care  for  that. 

"What  art  thou,  and  what  dost  want?"  cried  the 
old  dame.  "A  chimney-sweep!  Away  with  thee!  I'll 
have  no  sweeps  here." 

"Water,"  said  poor  little  Tom,  quite  faint. 

"Water?  There's  plenty  i'  the  beck,"  she  said, 
quite  sharply. 

"But  I  can't  get  there;  I'm  most  clemmed  with 
hunger  and  drought."  And  Tom  sank  down  upon  the 
door-step,  and  laid  his  head  against  the  post. 

[  7°  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

And  the  old  dame  looked  at  him  through  her  spec- 
tacles one  minute,  and  two,  and  three;  and  then  she  said, 
"He's  sick;  and  a  bairn's  a  bairn,  sweep  or  none." 

"Water,"  said  Tom. 

"God  forgive  me!"  and  she  put  by  her  spectacles, 
and  rose,  and  came  to  Tom.  "Water's  bad  for  thee; 
I'll  give  thee  milk."  And  she  toddled  off  into  the  next 
room,  and  brought  a  cup  of  milk  and  a  bit  of  bread. 

Tom  drank  the  milk  off  at  one  draught,  and  then 
looked  up,  revived. 

"Where  didst  come  from?"  said  the  dame. 

"Over  Fell,  there,"  said  Tom,  and  pointed  up  into 
the  sky. 

"Over  Harthover?  and  down  Lewthwaite  Crag? 
Art  sure  thou  art  not  lying?" 

"Why  should  I?"  said  Tom,  and  leant  his  head 
against  the  post. 

"And  how  got  ye  up  there?" 

"I  came  over  from  the  Place;"  and  Tom  was  so 
tired  and  desperate  he  had  no  heart  or  time  to  think 
of  a  story,  so  he  told  all  the  truth  in  a  few  words. 

"Bless  thy  little  heart!  And  thou  hast  not  been 
stealing,  then?" 

[7i  1 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


'No. 


"Bless  thy  little  heart!  and  I'll  warrant  not.  Why, 
God's  guided  the  bairn,  because  he  was  innocent!  Away 
from  the  Place,  and  over  Harthover  Fell,  and  down 
Lewthwaite  Crag!  Who  ever  heard  the  like,  if  God 
hadn't  led  him?     Why  dost  not  eat  thy  bread?" 

"I  can't." 

"It's  good  enough,  for  I  made  it  myself." 


"I  can't,"  said  Tom,  and  he  laid  his  head  on  his 
knees,  and  then  asked — 
"Is  it  Sunday?" 
"No,  then;  why  should  it  be?" 
"Because  I  hear  the  church-bells  ringing  so." 
"Bless  thy  pretty  heart!     The  bairn's  sick.     Come 

[  V-  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


wi'  me,  and  I'll  hap  thee  up  somewhere.  If  thou 
wert  a  bit  cleaner  I'd  put  thee  in  my  own  bed,  for 
the  Lord's  sake.     But  come  along  here." 

But  when  Tom  tried  to  get  up,  he  was  so  tired 
and  giddy  that  she  had  to  help  him  and  lead  him. 

She  put  him  in  an  outhouse  upon  soft  sweet  hay 
and  an  old  rug,  and  bade  him  sleep  off  his  walk,  and 
she  would  come  to  him  when  school  was  over,  in  an 
hour's  time. 

And  so  she  went  in  again,  expecting  Tom  to  fall 
fast  asleep  at  once. 

But  Tom  did  not  fall  asleep. 

Instead  of  it  he  turned  and  tossed  and  kicked  about 


in    the    strangest 

so    hot    all    over 

longed    to 

the      river 

himself  ; 

he  fell  half 

dreamt    that 

white       lady 

"Oh,  you're   so  dirty; 

and      then      that      he 


way,  and  felt 

that     he 

get  into 

and      cool 

and     then 

asleep,     and 

he  heard  the  little 

crying      to     him, 

go  and  be  washed;" 

heard      the       Irish- 


[73  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

woman  saying,  -"Those  that  wish  to  be  clean,  clean 
they  will  be."  And  then  he  heard  the  church-bells 
ring  so  loud,  close  to  him  too,  that  he  was  sure  it  must 
be  Sunday,  in  spite  of  what  the  old  dame  had  said; 
and  he  would  go  to  church,  and  see  what  a  church 
was  like  inside,  for  he  had  never  been  in  one,  poor 
little  fellow,  in  all  his  life.  But  the  people  would 
never  let  him  come  in,  all  over  soot  and  dirt  like  that. 
He  must  go  to  the  river  and  wash  first.  And  he  said 
out  loud  again  and  again,  though  being  half  asleep  he 
did  not  know  it,  "I  must  be  clean,  I  must  be  clean." 
And  all  of  a  sudden  he  found  himself,  not  in  the 
outhouse  on  the  hay,  but  in  the  middle  of  a  meadow, 
over  the  road,  with  the  stream  just  before  him,  saying 
continually,  "I  must  be  clean,  I  must  be  clean."  He 
had  got  there  on  his  own  legs,  between  sleep  and 
awake,  as  children  will  often  get  out  of  bed,  and  go 
about  the  room,  when  they  are  not  quite  well.  But 
he  was  not  a  bit  surprised,  and  went  on  to  the  bank 
of  the  brook,  and  lay  down  on  the  grass,  and  looked 
into  the  clear,  clear  limestone  water,  with  every  pebble 
at  the  bottom  bright  and  clean,  while  the  little  silver 
trout  dashed  about  in  fright  at  the  sight  of  his  black 

[  74] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

face;  and  he  dipped  his  hand  in  and  found  it  so  cool, 
cool,  cool;  and  he  said,  "I  will  be  a  fish;  I  will  swim 
in  the  water;  I  must  be  clean,  I  must  be  clean." 

So  he  pulled  off  all  his  clothes  in  such  haste  that 
he  tore  some  of  them,  which  was  easy  enough  with  such 
ragged  old  things.  And  he  put  his  poor  hot  sore  feet 
into  the  water;  and  then  his  legs;  and  the  farther 
he  went  in,  the  more  the  church-bells  rang  in  his 
head. 

"Ah,"  said  Tom,  "I  must  be  quick  and  wash 
myself;  the  bells  are  ringing  quite  loud  now;  and 
they  will  stop  soon,  and  then  the  door  will  be  shut, 
and  I  shall  never  be  able  to  get  in  at  all." 

Tom  was  mistaken:  for  in  England  the  church 
doors  are  left  open  all  service  time,  for  everybody  who 
likes  to  come  in,  Churchman  or  Dissenter;  ay,  even  if 
he  were  a  Turk  or  a  Heathen;  and  if  any  man  dared 
to  turn  him  out,  as  long  as  he  behaved  quietly,  the 
good  old  English  law  would  punish  that  man,  as  he 
deserved,  for  ordering  any  peaceable  person  out  of 
God's  house,  which  belongs  to  all  alike.  But  Tom 
did  not  know  that,  any  more  than  he  knew  a  great 
deal  more  which  people  ought  to  know. 

[  7S  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

And  all  the  while  he  never  saw  the  Irishwoman, 
not  behind  him  this  time,  but  before. 

For  just  before  he  came  to  the  river  side,  she  had 
stept  down  into  the  cool  clear  water;  and  her  shawl 
and  her  petticoat  floated  off  her,  and  the  green  water- 
weeds  floated  round  her  sides,  and  the  white  water- 
lilies  floated  round  her  head,  and  the  fairies  of  the 
stream  came  up  from  the  bottom  and  bore  her  away 
and  down  upon  their  arms;  for  she  was  the  Queen  of 
them  all;  and  perhaps  of  more  besides. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  they  asked  her. 

"I  have  been  smoothing  sick  folks'  pillows,  and 
whispering  sweet  dreams  into  their  ears;  opening  cot- 
tage casements,  to  let  out  the  stifling  air;  coaxing 
little  children  away  from  gutters,  and  foul  pools  where 
fever  breeds;  turning  women  from  the  gin-shop  door, 
and  staying  men's  hands  as  they  were  going  to  strike 
their  wives;  doing  all  I  can  to  help  those  who  will  not 
help  themselves:  and  little  enough  that  is,  and  weary 
work  for  me.  But  I  have  brought  you  a  new  little 
brother,  and  watched  him  safe  all  the  way  here." 

Then  all  the  fairies  laughed  for  joy  at  the  thought 
that  they  had  a  little  brother  coming. 

[  76} 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


"But  mind,  maidens,  he  must 
not  see  you,  or  know  that  you  are 
here.  He  is  but  a  savage  now, 
and  like  the  beasts  which  perish; 
and  from  the  beasts  which  per- 
ish he  must  learn.  So  you 
must  not  play  with  him,  or 
speak  to  him,  or  let  him  see  you: 
but  only  keep  him  from  being 
harmed." 

Then  the  fairies  were  sad,  be- 
cause they  could  not  play  with 
their  new  brother,  but  they  always 
did  what  they  were  told. 

And  their  Queen  floated  away 
down  the  river;  and  whither  she 
went,  thither  she  came.  But  all 
this  Tom,  of  course,  never  saw  or 
heard:  and  perhaps  if  he  had  it 
would  have  made  little  difference 
in  the  story;  for  he  was  so  hot 
and  thirsty,  and  longed  so  to  be 
clean    for   once,   that   he  tumbled 

[  77  ] 


tZjU 


y 


./^ 


LJ 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

himself   as    quick    as    he    could   into   the    clear  cool 
stream,  y 

And  he  had  not  been  in  it  two  minutes  before 
he  fell  fast  asleep,  into  the  quietest,  sunniest,  cosiest 
sleep  that  ever  he  had  in  his  life;  and  he  dreamt  about 
the  green  meadows  by  which  he  had  walked  that 
morning,  and  the  tall  elm-trees,  and  the  sleeping  cows; 
and  after  that  he  dreamt  of  nothing  at  all. 

The  reason  of  his  falling  into  such  a  delightful 
sleep  is  very  simple;  and  yet  hardly  any  one  has  found 
it  out.     It  was  merely  that  the  fairies  took  him. 

t  Some  people  think  that  there  are  no  fairies.  But 
it  is  a  wide  world,  and  plenty  of  room  in  it  for  fairies, 
without  people  seeing  them;  unless,  of  course,  they  look 
in  the  right  place.  The  most  wonderful  and  the  strong- 
est things  in  the  world,  you  know,  are  just  the  things 
which  no  one  can  see.  There  is  life  in  you;  and  it  is  the 
life  in  you  which  makes  you  grow,  and  move,  and  think: 
and  yet  you  can't  see  it.  And  there  is  steam  in  a 
steam-engine;  and  that  is  what  makes  it  move:  and 
yet  you  can't  see  it;  and  so  there  may  be  fairies  in 
the  world,  and  they  may  be  just  what  makes  the  world 
go  round  to  the  old  tune  of 

[  78  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Cest  V  amour,  V amour,  V amour 
Qui  j ait  la  monde  a  la  ronde:" 

and  yet  no  one  may  be  able  to  see  them  except  those 
whose  hearts  are  going  round  to  that  same  tune.  At 
all  events,  we  will  make  believe  that  there  are  fairies 
in  the  world.  It  will  not  be  the  last  time  by  many  a 
one  that  we  shall  have  to  make  believe.  And  yet,  after 
all,  there  is  no  need  for  that.  There  must  be  fairies; 
for  this  is  a  fairy  tale:  and  how  can  one  have  a  fairy 
tale  if  there  are  no  fairies? 

The  kind  old  dame  came  back  at  twelve,  when 
school  was  over,  to  look  at  Tom:  but  there  was  no 


[  79  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Tom  there.  She  looked  about  for  his  footprints;  but 
the  ground  was  so  hard  that  there  was  none. 

So  the  old  dame  went  in  again  quite  sulky,  thinking 
that  little  Tom  had  tricked  her  with  a  false  story,  and 
shammed  ill,  and  then  run  away  again. 

But  she  altered  her  mind  the  next  day.  For, 
when  Sir  John  and  the  rest  of  them  had  run  them- 
selves out  of  breath,  and  lost  Tom,  they  went  back 
again,  looking  very  foolish. 

And  they  looked  more  foolish  still  when  Sir  John 
heard  more  of  the  story  from  the  nurse;  and  more 
foolish  still,  again,  when  they  heard  the  whole  story 
from  Miss  Ellie,  the  little  lady  in  white.  All  she  had 
seen  was  a  poor  little  black  chimney-sweep,  crying 
and  sobbing,  and  going  to  get  up  the  chimney  again. 
Of  course,  she  was  very  much  frightened:  and  no 
wonder.  But  that  was  all.  The  boy  had  taken  noth- 
ing in  the  room;  by  the  mark  of  his  little  sooty  feet, 
they  could  see  that  he  had  never  been  off  the  hearthrug 
till  the  nurse  caught  hold  of  him.     It  was  all  a  mistake. 

So  Sir  John  told  Grimes  to  go  home,  and  promised 
him  five  shillings  if  he  would  bring  the  boy  quietly 
up  to  him,  without  beating  him,  that  he  might  be  sure 

[  80] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

of  the  truth.  For  he  took  for  granted,  and  Grimes 
too,  that  Tom  had  made  his  way  home. 

But  no  Tom  came  back  to  Mr.  Grimes  that  evening; 
and  he  went  to  the  police-office,  to  tell  them  to  look 
out  for  the  boy.  But  no  Tom  was  heard  of.  As  for 
his  having  gone  over  those  great  fells  to  Vendale,  they 
no  more  dreamed  of  that  than  of  his  having  gone  to 
the  moon. 

So  Mr.  Grimes  came  up  to  Harthover  next  day 
with  a  very  sour  face;  but  when  he  got  there,  Sir  John 
was  over  the  hills  and  far  away;  and  Mr.  Grimes  had 
to  sit  in  the  outer  servants'  hall  all  day,  and  drink 
strong  ale  to  wash  away  his  sorrows;  and  they  were 
washed  away  long  before  Sir  John  came  back. 

For  good  Sir  John  had  slept  very  badly  that  night; 
and  he  said  to  his  lady,  "My  dear,  the  boy  must  have 
got  over  into  the  grouse-moors,  and  lost  himself;  and 
he  lies  very  heavily  on  my  conscience,  poor  little  lad. 
But  I  know  what  I  will  do." 

So,  at  five  the  next  morning  up  he  got,  and  into 
his  bath,  and  into  his  shooting-jacket  and  gaiters,  and 
into  the  stableyard,  like  a  fine  old  English  gentleman, 
with  a  face  as  red  as  a  rose,  and  a  hand  as  hard  as 

[  81  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

a  table,  and  a  back  as  broad  as  a  bullock's;  and  bade 
them  bring  his  shooting  pony,  and  the  keeper  to  come 
on  his  pony,  and  the  huntsman,  and  the  first  whip, 
and  the  second  whip,  and  the  underkeeper  with  the 
bloodhound  in  a  leash — a  great  dog  as  tall  as  a  calf, 
of  the  colour  of  a  gravel-walk,  with  mahogany  ears 
and  nose,  and  a  throat  like  a  church-bell.  They  took 
him  up  to  the  place  where  Tom  had  gone  into  the  wood; 
and  there  the  hound  lifted  up  his  mighty  voice,  and 
told  them  all  he  knew. 

Then  he  took  them  to  the  place  where  Tom  had 
climbed  the  wall;  and  they  shoved  it  down,  and  all 
got  through. 

And  then  the  wise  dog  took  them  over  the  moor, 
and  over  the  fells,  step  by  step,  very  slowly;  for  the 
scent  was  a  day  old,  you  know,  and  very  light  from 
the  heat  and  drought.  But  that  was  why  cunning  old 
Sir  John  started  at  five  in  the  morning. 

And  at  last  he  came  to  the  top  of  Lewthwaite 
Crag,  and  there  he  bayed,  and  looked  up   in   their 

[  82  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

faces,  as  much  as  to  say,  "I  tell  you  he  is  gone  down 
here!" 

They  could  hardly  believe  that  Tom  would  have 
gone  so  far;  and  when  they  looked  at  that  awful  cliff, 
they  could  never  believe  that  he  would  have  dared  to 
face  it.     But  if  the  dog  said  so,  it  must  be  true. 

"Heaven  forgive  us!"  said  Sir  John.  "If  we  find 
him  at  all,  we  shall  find  him  lying  at  the  bottom." 
And  he  slapped  his  great  hand  upon  his  great  thigh, 
and  said — 

"Who  will  go  down  over  Lewthwaite  Crag,  and  see 
if  that  boy  is  alive?  Oh  that  I  were  twenty  years 
younger,  and  I  would  go  down  myself!"  And  so  he 
would  have  done,  as  well  as  any  sweep  in  the  county. 
Then  he  said — 

"Twenty  pounds  to  the  man  who  brings  me  that 
boy  alive!"  and  as  was  his  way,  what  he  said  he  meant. 

Now  among  the  lot  was  a  little  groom-boy,  a  very 
little  groom  indeed;  and  he  was  the  same  who  had 


83  1 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

ridden  up  the  court,  and  told  Tom  to  come  to  the 
Hall;  and  he  said — 

"Twenty  pounds  or  none,  I  will  go  down  over 
Lewthwaite  Crag,  if  it's  only  for  the  poor  boy's  sake. 
For  he  was  as  civil  a  spoken  little  chap  as  ever  climbed 
a  flue." 

So  down  over  Lewthwaite  Crag  he  went:  a  very 
smart  groom  he  was  at  the  top,  and  a  very  shabby  one 
at  the  bottom;  for  he  tore  his  gaiters,  and  he  tore  his 
breeches,  and  he  tore  his  jacket,  and  he  burst  his  braces, 
and  he  burst  his  boots,  and  he  lost  his  hat,  and  what 
was  worst  of  all,  he  lost  his  shirt  pin,  which  he  prized 
very  much,  for  it  was  gold,  and  he  had  won  it  in  a 
raffle  at  Malton,  so  it  was  a  really  severe  loss:  but  he 
never  saw  anything  of  Tom. 

And  all  the  while  Sir  John  and  the  rest  were 
riding  round,  full  three  miles  to  the  right,  and  back 
again,  to  get  into  Vendale,  and  to  the  foot  of  the  crag. 

When  they  came  to  the  old  dame's  school,  all  the 
children  came  out  to  see.  And  the  old  dame  came  out 
too;  and  when  she  saw  Sir  John,  she  curtsied  very  low, 
for  she  was  a  tenant  of  his. 

"Well,  dame,  and  how  are  you?"  said  Sir  John. 

[84] 


I 

/ 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Blessings  on  you  as  broad  as  your  back,  Harth- 
over,"  says  she — she  didn't  call  him  Sir  John,  but  only 
Harthover,  for  that  is  the  fashion  in  the  North  country 
— "and  welcome  into  Vendale:  but  you're  no  hunting 
the  fox  this  time  of  the  year?" 

"I  am  hunting,  and  strange  game  too,"  said  he. 

"Blessings  on  your  heart,  and  what  makes  you 
look  so  sad  the  morn?" 

"I'm  looking  for  a  lost  child,  a  chimney-sweep,  that 
is  run  away." 

"Oh,  Harthover,  Harthover,"  says  she,  "ye  were 
always  a  just  man  and  a  merciful;  and  ye'll  no  harm 
the  poor  little  lad  if  I  give  you  tidings  of  him?" 

"Not  I,  not  I,  dame.  I'm  afraid  we  hunted  him 
out  of  the  house  all  on  a  miserable  mistake,  and  the 
hound  has  brought  him  to  the  top  of  Lewthwaite 
Crag,  and " 

Whereat  the  old  dame  broke  out  crying,  without 
letting  him  finish  his  story. 

"So  he  told  me  the  truth  after  all,  poor  little  dear! 
Ah,  first  thoughts  are  best,  and  a  body's  heart'll  guide 
them  right,  if  they  will  but  hearken  to  it."  And  then 
she  told  Sir  John  all. 

t85] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Bring  the  dog  here,  and  lay  him  on,"  said  Sir  John, 
without  another  word,  and  he  set  his  teeth  very  hard. 

And  the  dog  opened  at  once;  and  went  away  at 
the  back  of  the  cottage,  over  the  road,  and  over  the 
meadow,  and  through  a  bit  of  alder  copse;  and  there, 
upon  an  alder  stump,  they  saw  Tom's  clothes  lying. 
And  then  they  knew  as  much  about  it  all  as  there  was 
any  need  to  know. 

And  Tom? 

Ah,  now  comes  the  most  wonderful  part  of  this 
wonderful  story.  Tom,  when  he  woke,  for  of  course 
he  woke — children  always  wake  after  they  have  slept 
exactly  as  long  as  is  good  for  them — found  himself 
swimming  about  in  the  stream,  being  about,  four  inches, 
or — that  I  may  be  accurate — 3.87902  inches  long, 
and  having  round  the  parotid  region  of  his  fauces  a  set 
of  external  gills  (I  hope  you  understand  all  the  big 
words)  just  like  those  of  a  sucking  eft,  which  he  mistook 
for  a  lace  frill,  till  he  pulled  at  them,  found  he  hurt 
himself,  and  made  up  his  mind  that  they  were  part 
of  himself,  and  best  left  alone. 

In  fact,  the  fairies  had  turned  him  into  a  water- 
baby. 

[  86] 


/ 


) 


■  »E*$»e  ^Ngwwwita^vn 


W 


-•-%■ 


* 


■ta  - 


©  Dodd.  Mead  &  ComDany,  Inc. 


Z/i?  /^/2  Aok;  comfortable  it  was  to  have  noth~ 
ing  on  him  but  himself 


. 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

A  water-baby?  You  never  heard  of  a  water-baby. 
Perhaps  not.  That  is  the  very  reason  why  this  story 
was  written.  There  are  a  great  many  things  in  the 
world  which  you  never  heard  of;  and  a  great  many 
more  which  nobody  ever  heard  of;  and  a  great  many 


things,  too,  which  nobody  will  ever  hear  of,  at  least 
until  the  coming  of  the  Cocqcigrues,  when  man  shall 
be  the  measure  of  all  things. 

"But  there  are  no  such  things  as  water-babies." 
How  do  you  know  that?     Have  you  been  there  to 

[  87  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

see?  And  if  you  had  been  there  to  see,  and  had  seen 
none,  that  would  not  prove  that  there  were  none.  And 
no  one  has  a  right  to  say  that  no  water-babies  exist, 
till  they  have  seen  no  water-babies  existing;  which  is 
quite  a  different  thing,  mind,  from  not  seeing  water- 
babies;  and  a  thing  which  nobody  ever  did,  or  perhaps 
ever  will  do. 

"But  surely  if  there  were  water-babies,  somebody 
would  have  caught  one  at  least?" 

Well.     How  do  you  know  that  somebody  has  not? 

"But  they  would  have  put  it  into  spirits,  or  into 
the  Illustrated  News,  or  perhaps  cut  it  into  two  halves, 
poor  dear  little  thing,  and  sent  one  to  Professor  Owen, 
and  one  to  Professor  Huxley,  to  see  what  they  would 
each  say  about  it." 

Ah,  my  dear  little  man!  that  does  not  follow  at  all, 
as  you  will  see  before  the  end  of  the  story. 

"But  a  water-baby  is  contrary  to  nature." 

Well,  but,  my  dear  little  man,  you  must  learn  to 
talk  about  such  things,  when  you  grow  older,  in  a  very 
different  way  from  that.  You  must  not  talk  about 
"ain't"  and  "can't"  when  you  speak  of  this  great 
wonderful  world  round  you,  of  which  the  wisest  man 

[  88  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

knows  only  the  very  smallest  corner,  and  is,  as  the 
great  Sir  Isaac  Newton  said,  only  a  child  picking  up 
pebbles  on  the  shore  of  a  boundless  ocean. 

You  must  not  say  that  this  cannot  be,  or  that 
that  is  contrary  to  nature.     You  do  not  know  what 


Nature  is,  or  what  she  can  do;  and  nobody  knows. 
Wise  men  are  afraid  to  say  that  there  is  anything  con- 
trary to  nature,  except  what  is  contrary  to  mathemati- 
cal truth;  for  two  and  two  cannot  make  five,  and  two 
straight  lines  cannot  join  twice,  and  a  part  cannot 
be  as  great  as  the  whole,  and  so  on  (at  least,  so  it 

[  89  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

seems  at  present):  but  the  wiser  men  are,  the  less 
they  talk  about  "cannot."  That  is  a  very  rash,  danger- 
ous word,  that  "cannot";  and  if  people  use  it  too  often, 
the  Queen  of  all  the  Fairies,  who  makes  the  clouds 
thunder  and  the  fleas  bite,  and  takes  just  as  much 
trouble  about  one  as  about  the  other,  is  apt  to  astonish 
them  suddenly  by  showing  them,  that  though  they 
say  she  cannot,  yet  she  can,  and  what  is  more,  will, 
whether  they  approve  or  not. 

And  therefore  it  is,  that  there  are  dozens  and 
hundreds  of  things  in  the  world  which  we  should 
certainly  have  said  were  contrary  to  nature,  if  we  did 
not  see  them  going  on  under  our  eyes  all  day  long. 
If  people  had  never  seen  little  seeds  grow  into  great 
plants  and  trees,  of  quite  different  shape  from  them- 
selves, and  these  trees  again  produce  fresh  seeds,  to 
grow  into  fresh  trees,  they  would  have  said,  "The  thing 
cannot  be;  it  is  contrary  to  nature."  And  they  would 
have  been  quite  as  right  in  saying  so,  as  in  saying 
that  most  other  things  cannot  be. 

Or  suppose  again,  that  you  had  come  a  traveller 
from  unknown  parts;  and  that  no  human  being  had 
ever  seen  or  heard  of  an  elephant.     And  suppose  that 

[  90  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

you  described  him  to  people,  and  said,  "This  is  the 
shape,  and  plan,  and  anatomy  of  the  beast,  and  of  his 
feet,  and  of  his  trunk,  and  of  his  grinders,  and  of  his 
tusks,  though  they  are  not  tusks  at  all,  but  two  fore 
teeth  run  mad;  and  this  is  the  section  of  his  skull,  more 
like  a  mushroom  than  a  reasonable  skull  of  a  reason- 
able or  unreasonable  beast;  and  so  forth,  and  so  forth; 
and  though  the  beast  (which  I  assure  you  I  have  seen 
and  shot)  is  first  cousin  to  the  little  hairy  coney  of 
Scripture,  second  cousin  to  a  pig,  and  (I  suspect) 
thirteenth  or  fourteenth  cousin  to  a  rabbit,  yet  he  is 
the  wisest  of  all  beasts,  and  can  do  everything  save 
read,  write,  and  cast  accounts."  People  would  surely 
have  said,  "Nonsense;  your  elephant  is  contrary  to 
nature;"  and  have  thought  you  were  telling  stories — 
as  the  French  thought  of  Le  Vaillant  when  he  came  back 
to  Paris  and  said  that  he  had  shot  a  giraffe;  and  as  the 
king  of  the  Cannibal  Islands  thought  of  the  English 
sailor,  when  he  said  that  in  his  country  water  turned 
to  marble,  and  rain  fell  as  feathers.  They  would  tell 
you,  the  more  they  knew  of  science,  "Your  ele- 
phant is  an  impossible  monster,  contrary  to  the 
laws  of  comparative  anatomy,  as  far  as  yet  known." 

[91  1 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


To  which  you  would  answer  the  less,  the  more  you 
thought. 

Did  not  learned  men,  too,  hold,  till  within  the  last 
twenty-five  years,  that  a  flying  dragon  was  an  im- 
possible monster?  And  do  we  not  now  know  that 
there  are  hundreds  of  them  found  fossil  up  and  down 
the  world?  People  call  them  Pterodactyles:  but  that 
is  only  because  they  are  ashamed  to  call  them  flying 
dragons,  after  denying  so  long  that  flying  dragons 
could  exist. 

The  truth  is,  that  folks'  fancy  that  such  and  such 
things  cannot  be,  simply  because  they  have  not  seen 
them,  is  worth  no  more  than  a  savage's  fancy  that 
there  cannot  be  such  a  thing  as  a  locomotive,  because 
he  never  saw  one  running  wild  in  the  forest.     Wise 


men     know     that 
examine    what    is, 
what  is  not.    They 
elephants;      they 
been     flying 
and    the 
are,     the 
they  will  be 


their   business    is    to 
and     not     to     settle 
know  that   there    are 
know  that  there  have 
dragons ; 
wiser     they 
less  inclined 
to  say  posi- 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


tively    that     there     are     no     water- 
babies. 

No  water-babies,  indeed!  Why, 
wise  men  of  old  said  that  everything 
on  earth  had  its  double  in  the  water; 
and  you  may  see  that  that  is, 
not  quite  true,  still  quite  as  true 
as  most  other  theories  which  you 
are  likely  to  hear  for  many 
a  day.  There  are  land- 
babies — then  why  not  water-babies?  Are  there  not 
water-rats,  water-flies,  water-crickets,  water-crabs,  water- 
tortoises,  water-scorpions,  water-tigers  and  water-hogs, 
water-cats  and  water-dogs,  sea-lions  and  sea-bears,  sea- 
horses and  sea-elephants,  sea-mice  and  sea-urchins,  sea- 
razors  and  sea-pens,  sea-combs  and  sea-fans;  and  of 
plants,  are  there  not  water-grass,  and  water-crowfoot, 
water-milfoil,  and  so  on,  without  end? 

"But  all  these  things  are  only  nicknames;  the 
water  things  are  not  really  akin  to  the  land  things." 

That's  not  always  true.  They  are,  in  millions  of 
cases,  not  only  of  the  same  family,  but  actually  the 
same  individual  creatures.     Do  not  even  you  know  that 

[93  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

a  green  drake,  and  an  alder-fly,  and  a  dragon-fly,  live 
under  water  till  they  change  their  skins,  just  as  Tom 
changed  his?  And  if  a  water  animal  can  continually 
change  into  a  land  animal,  why  should  not  a  land 
animal  sometimes  change  into  a  water  animal? 

Am  I  in  earnest?  Oh  dear  no!  Don't  you  know 
that  this  is  a  fairy  tale,  and  all  fun  and  pretence;  and 
that  you  are  not  to  believe  one  word  of  it,  even  if  it 
is  true? 

But  at  all  events,  so  it  happened  to  Tom.  And, 
therefore,  the  keeper,  and  the  groom,  and  Sir  John 
made  a  great  mistake,  and  were  very  unhappy  (Sir 
John  at  least)  without  any  reason,  when  they  found 
a  black  thing  in  the  water,  and  said  it  was  Tom's  body, 
and  that  he  had  been  drowned.  They  were  utterly 
mistaken.  Tom  was  quite  alive;  and  cleaner,  and 
merrier,  than  he  ever  had  been.  The  fairies  had  washed 
him,  you  see,  in  the  swift  river,  so  thoroughly,  that 
not  only  his  dirt,  but  his  whole  husk  and  shell  had 
been  washed  quite  off  him,  and  the  pretty  little  real 
Tom  was  washed  out  of  the  inside  of  it,  and  swam 
away,  as  a  caddis  does  when  its  case  of  stones  and 
silk  is  bored  through,  and  away  it  goes  on  its  back, 

[94] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

paddling  to  the  shore,  there  to  split  its  skin,  and  fly 
away  as  a  caperer,  on  four  fawn-coloured  wings,  with 
long  legs  and  horns.  They  are  foolish  fellows,  the 
caperers,  and  fly  into  the  candle  at  night,  if  you  leave 
the  door  open.  We  will  hope  Tom  will  be  wiser,  now 
he  has  got  safe  out  of  his  sooty  old  shell. 

But  good  Sir  John  did  not  understand  all  this, 
not  being  a  fellow  of  the  Linnaean  Society;  and  he 
took  it  into  his  head  that  Tom  was  drowned.  When 
they  looked  into  the  empty  pockets  of  his  shell,  and 
found  no  jewels  there,  nor  money — nothing  but  three 
marbles,  and  a  brass  button  with  a  string  to  it — then 
Sir  John  did  something  as  like  crying  as  ever  he  did 
in  his  life,  and  blamed  himself  more  bitterly  than 
he  need  have  done.  So  he  cried,  and  the  groom-boy 
cried,  and  the  huntsman  cried,  and  the  dame  cried, 
and  the  little  girl  cried,  and  the  dairymaid  cried,  and 
the  old  nurse  cried  (for  it  was  somewhat  her  fault), 
and  my  lady  cried,  for  though  people  have  wigs,  that 
is  no  reason  why  they  should  not  have  hearts;  but 
the  keeper  did  not  cry,  though  he  had  been  so  good- 
natured  to  Tom  the  morning  before;  for  he  was  so 
dried  up  with  running  after  poachers,  that  you  could 

[95  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

no  more  get  tears  out  of  him  than  milk  out  of  leather: 
and  Grimes  did  not  cry,  for  Sir  John  gave  him  ten 
pounds,  and  he  drank  it  all  in  a  week.  Sir  John 
sent,  far  and  wide,  to  find  Tom's  father  and  mother: 
but  he  might  have  looked  till  Doomsday  for  them,  for 
one  was  dead,  and  the  other  was  in  Botany  Bay. 
And  the  little  girl  would  not  play  with  her  dolls  for 
a  whole  week,  and  never  forgot  poor  little  Tom.  And 
soon  my  lady  put  a  pretty  little  tombstone  over  Tom's 
shell  in  the  little  churchyard  in  Vendale,  where  the 
old  dalesmen  all  sleep  side  by  side  between  the  lime- 
stone crags.  And  the  dame  decked  it  with  garlands 
every  Sunday,  till  she  grew  so  old  that  she  could  not 
stir  abroad;  then  the  little  children  decked  it  for  her. 
And  always  she  sang  an  old  old  song,  as  she  sat  spin- 
ning what  she  called  her  wedding-dress.  The  children 
could  not  understand  it,  but  they  liked  it  none  the 
less  for  that;  for  it  was  very  sweet,  and  very  sad;  and 
that  was  enough  for  them.  And  these  are  the  words 
of  it:— 


[96] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

When  all  the  world  is  young,  lad, 

And  all  the  trees  are  green; 
And  every  goose  a  swan,  lad, 

And  every  lass  a  queen; 
Then  hey  for  boot  and  horse,  lad, 

And  round  the  world  away; 
Young  blood  must  have  its  course,  lad, 

And  every  dog  his  day. 

When  all  the  world  is  old,  lad, 

And  all  the  trees  are  brown; 
And  all  the  sport  is  stale,  lad, 

And  all  the  wheels  run  down; 
Creep  home,  and  take  your  place  there, 

The  spent  and  maimed  among: 
God  grant  you  find  one  face  there, 

You  loved  when  all  was  young. 

Those  are  the  words:  but  they  are  only  the  body 
of  it:  the  soul  of  the  song  was  the  dear  old  woman's 
sweet  face,  and  sweet  voice,  and  the  sweet  old  air  to 
which  she  sang;  and  that,  alas!  one  cannot  put  on 
paper.     And  at  last  she  grew  so  stiff  and  lame,  that 

[97] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

the  angels  were  forced  to  carry  her;  and  they  helped 
her  on  with  her  wedding-dress,  and  carried  her  up 
over  Harthover  Fells,  and  a  long  way  beyond  that  too; 
and  there  was  a  new  schoolmistress  in  Vendale. 

And  all  the  while  Tom  was  swimming  about  in  the 
river,  with  a  pretty  little  lace-collar  of  gills  about  his 
neck,  as  lively  as  a  grig,  and  as  clean  as  a  fresh-run 
salmon. 


[98] 


9AP 


Oj 


CHAPTER   III 


H 


ie 


'O 


';  01 


6 


0 


iO^ 


m 


S^sflo^essSSS^^^^j^iSipi^^^f 


CHAPTER    III 


TOM   was  now  quite  amphibious.      You 
do  not  know  what  that  means? 
You    had    better,    then,    ask     the 
nearest  Government   pupil-teacher,  who 
may  possibly  answer  you  smartly  enough,  thus — 

"Amphibious.  Adjective,  derived  from  two  Greek 
words,  amphi,  a  fish,  and  bios,  a  beast.  An  animal 
supposed  by  our  ignorant  ancestors  to  be  compounded 
of  a  fish  and  a  beast;  which  therefore,  like  the  hippopota- 
mus, can't  live  on  the  land,  and  dies  in  the  water." 

However  that  may  be,  Tom  was  amphibious: 
and  what  is  better  still,  he  was  clean.     For  the  first 

[ioi] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

time  in  his  life,  he  felt  how  comfortable  it  was  to  have 
nothing  on  him  but  himself.  But  he  only  enjoyed  it: 
he  did  not  know  it,  or  think  about  it;  just  as  you 
enjoy  life  and  health,  and  yet  never  think  about  being 
alive  and  healthy;  and  may  it  be  long  before  you  have 
to  think  about  it! 

He  did  not  remember  having  ever  been  dirty.  In- 
deed, he  did  not  remember  any  of  his  old  troubles, 
being  tired,  or  hungry,  or  beaten,  or  sent  up  dark 
chimneys.  Since  that  sweet  sleep,  he  had  forgotten 
all  about  his  master,  and  Harthover  Place,  and  the 
little  white  girl,  and  in  a  word,  all  that  had  happened 
to  him  when  he  lived  before;  and  what  was  best  of 
all,  he  had  forgotten  all  the  bad  words  which  he  had 
learned  from  Grimes,  and  the  rude  boys  with  whom 
he  used  to  play. 

That  is  not  strange:  for  you  know,  when  you  came 
into  this  world,  and  became  a  land-baby,  you  remem- 
bered nothing.  So  why  should  he,  when  he  became 
a  water-baby? 

Then  have  you  lived  before? 

My  dear  child,  who  can  tell?  One  can  only  tell 
that,  by  remembering  something  which  happened  where 

[102] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


we  lived  before;  and  as  we  remember 
nothing,  we  know  nothing  about  it; 
and  no  book,  and  no  man,  can  ever 
tell  us  certainly. 

There  was  a  wise  man  once,  a 
very  wise  man,  and  a  very  good 
man,  who  wrote  a  poem  about  the 
feelings  which  some  children  have 
about  having  lived  before;  and  this 
is  what  he  said — 

"Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a 
forgetting; 
The  soul  that  rises  with  us,  our 
life's  star, 

Hath  elsewhere  had  its  set- 
ting, 

And  cometh  from  afar: 
Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 
And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory,  do  we 
come 

From    God,     who    is    our 
home." 

[103] 


V,; 


^ 


THE  WATER-BABIES 

There,   you  can  know  no 

more  than  that.      But  if  I 

was  you,  I  would  believe  that.     For  then 

you  will    believe    the   one  true  doctrine 

of  this  wonderful  fairy  tale;    which   is,   that 

your  soul  makes  your  body,  just  as  a  snail 

makes  his  shell.      For  the  rest,  it  is  enough 

for  us  to  be  sure  that  whether  or  not  we  lived 

before,    we    shall    live  again;    though    not,    I 

hope,  as  poor  little  heathen  Tom  did.     For  he  went 

downward  into  the  water:  but  we,  I  hope,  shall  go 

upward  to  a  very  different  place. 

But  Tom  was  very  happy  in  the  water.  He  had 
been  sadly  overworked  in  the  land-world;  and  so  now, 
to  make  up  for  that,  he  had  nothing  but  holidays  in 
the  water-world  for  a  long,  long  time  to  come.  He 
had  nothing  to  do  now  but  enjoy  himself,  and  look 
at  all  the  pretty  things  which  are  to  be  seen  in  the 
cool  clear  water- world,  where  the  sun  is  never  too  hot, 
and  the  frost  is  never  too  cold. 

And  what  did  he  live  on?  Water-cresses,  perhaps; 
or  perhaps  water-gruel,  and  water-milk;  too  many  land- 
babies  do  so  likewise.     But  we  do  not  know  what 

[104] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


one-tenth  of  the  water-things  eat;  so  we  are  not  answer- 
able for  the  water-babies. 

Sometimes  he  went  along  the  smooth  gravel  water- 
ways, looking  at  the  crickets  which  ran  in  and  out 
among  the  stones,  as  rabbits  do  on  land;  or  he  climbed 
over  the  ledges  of  rock,  and  saw  the  sand-pipes  hanging 
in  thousands,  with  every  one  of  them  a  pretty  little  head 
and  legs  peeping  out;  or  he  went  into  a  still  corner, 
and  watched  the  caddises  eating  dead  sticks  as  greedily 
as  you  would  eat  plum-pudding,  and  building  their 
houses  with  silk  and  glue.  Very  fanciful  ladies  they 
were;  none  of  them  would  keep  to  the  same 
materials  for  a  day.  One  would  begin  with 
some  pebbles;  then  she  would  stick  on  a  piece  of 
green  wood;  then  she  found  a  shell,  and  stuck 
it  on  too;  and  the  poor  shell  was  alive,  and 
did  not  like  at  all  being  taken  to  build  houses 
with:  but  the  caddis  did  not  let  him 
have  any  voice  in  the  matter,  being 
rude  and  selfish,  as  vain  people 
are  apt  to  be;  then  she 
stuck  on  a  piece  of  rot- 
ten wood,   then  a  very 

[105] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

smart  pink  stone,  and  so  on,  till  she  was  patched 
all  over  like  an  Irishman's  coat.  Then  she  found 
a  long  straw,  five  times  as  long  as  herself,  and 
said,  "Hurrah!  my  sister  has  a  tail,  and  I'll  have 
one  too;"  and  she  stuck  it  on  her  back,  and  marched 
about  with  it  quite  proud,  though  it  was  very 
inconvenient  indeed.  And,  at  that,  tails  became  all 
the  fashion  among  the  caddis-baits  in  that  pool,  as 
they  were  at  the  end  of  the  Long  Pond  last  May,  and 
they  all  toddled  about  with  long  straws  sticking  out 
behind,  getting  between  each  other's  legs,  and  tumbling 
over  each  other,  and  looking  so  ridiculous,  that  Tom 
laughed  at  them  till  he  cried,  as  we  did.  But  they 
were  quite  right,  you  know;  for  people  must  always 
follow  the  fashion,  even  if  it  be  spoon-bonnets. 

Then  sometimes  he  came  to  a  deep  still  reach; 
and  there  he  saw  the  water-forests.  They  would  have 
looked  to  you  only  little  weeds:  but  Tom,  you  must 
remember,  was  so  little  that  everything  looked  a  hun- 
dred times  as  big  to  him  as  it  does  to  you,  just  as 
things  do  to  a  minnow,  who  sees  and  catches  the  little 
water-creatures  which  you  can  only  see  in  a  microscope. 

And  in  the  water-forest  he  saw  the  water-monkeys 

[106I 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

and  water-squirrels  (they  had  all  six  legs,  though; 
everything  almost  has  six  legs  in  the  water,  except  efts 
and  water-babies) ;  and  nimbly  enough  they  ran  among 
the  branches.  There  were  water-flowers  there  too,  in 
thousands;  and  Tom  tried  to  pick  them:  but  as  soon 
as  he  touched  them,  they  drew  themselves  in  and 
turned  into  knots  of  jelly;  and  then  Tom  saw  that 
they  were  all  alive — bells,  and  stars,  and  wheels,  and 
flowers,  of  all  beautiful  shapes  and  colours;  and  all 
alive  and  busy,  just  as  Tom  was.  So  now  he  found 
that  there  was  a  great  deal  more  in  the  world  than  he 
had  fancied  at  first  sight. 

There  was  one  wonderful  little  fellow,  too,  who 
peeped  out  of  the  top  of  a  house  built  of  round  bricks. 
He  had  two  big  wheels,  and  one  little  one,  all  over 
teeth,  spinning  round  and  round  like  the  wheels  in  a 
thrashing-machine;  and  Tom  stood  and  stared  at  him, 
to  see  what  he  was  going  to  make  with  his  machinery. 
And  what  do  you  think  he  was  doing?  Brick-making. 
With  his  two  big  wheels  he  swept  together  all  the  mud 
which  floated  in  the  water:  all  that  was  nice  in  it  he 
put  into  his  stomach  and  ate;  and  all  the  mud  he  put 
into  the  little  wheel  on  his  breast,  which  really  was  a 

[107] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

round  hole  set  with  teeth;  and  there  he  spun  it  into 
a  neat  hard  round  brick;  and  then  he  took  it  and 
stuck  it  on  the  top  of  his  house-wall,  and  set  to  work 
to  make  another.  Now  was  not  he  a  clever  little 
fellow? 

Tom  thought  so:  but  when  he  wanted  to  talk  to 


him  the  brick-maker  was  much  too  busy  and  proud  of 
his  work  to  take  notice  of  him. 

Now  you  must  know  that  all  the  things  under  the 
water  talk;  only  not  such  a  language  as  ours;  but 
such  as  horses,  and  dogs,  and  cows,  and  birds  talk  to 
each  other;  and  Tom  soon  learned  to  understand  them 
and  talk  to  them;  so  that  he  might  have  had  very 
pleasant  company  if  he  had  only  been  a  good  boy. 
But  I  am  sorry  to  say,  he  was  too  like  some  other 

[108] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

little  boys,  very  fond  of  hunting  and  tormenting 
creatures  for  mere  sport.  Some  people  say  that  boys 
cannot  help  it;  that  it  is  nature,  and  only  a  proof  that 
we  are  all  originally  descended  from  beasts  of  prey. 
But  whether  it  is  nature  or  not,  little  boys  can  help  it, 
and  must  help  it.  For  if  they  have  naughty,  low, 
mischievous  tricks  in  their  nature,  as  monkeys  have, 


that  is  no  reason  why  they  should  give  way  to  those 
tricks  like  monkeys,  who  know  no  better.  And  there- 
fore they  must  not  torment  dumb  creatures;  for  if  they 
do,  a  certain  old  lady  who  is  coming  will  surely  give 
them  exactly  what  they  deserve. 

But  Tom  did  not  know  that;  and  he  pecked  and 
howked  the  poor  water-things  about  sadly,  till  they 

[109] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

were  all  afraid  of  him,  and  got  out  of  his  way,  or  crept 
into  their  shells;  so  he  had  no  one  to  speak  to  or  play 
with. 

The  water-fairies,  of  course,  were  very  sorry  to  see 
him  so  unhappy,  and  longed  to  take  him,  and  tell  him 
how  naughty  he  was,  and  teach  him  to  be  good,  and 
to  play  and  romp  with  him  too:  but  they  had  been 
forbidden  to  do  that.  Tom  had  to  learn  his  lesson 
for  himself  by  sound  and  sharp  experience,  as  many 
another  foolish  person  has  to  do,  though  there  may  be 
many  a  kind  heart  yearning  over  them  all  the  while, 
and  longing  to  teach  them  what  they  can  only  teach 
themselves. 

At  last  one  day  he  found  a  caddis,  and  wanted  it 
to  peep  out  of  its  house:  but  its  house-door  was  shut. 
He  had  never  seen  a  caddis  with  a  house-door  before: 
so  what  must  he  do,  the  meddlesome  little  fellow,  but 
pull  it  open,  to  see  what  the  poor  lady  was  doing 
inside.  What  a  shame!  How  should  you  like  to 
have  any  one  breaking  your  bedroom-door  in,  to  see 
how  you  looked  when  you  were  in  bed?  So  Tom 
broke  to  pieces  the  door,  which  was  the  prettiest  little 
grating  of  silk,   stuck  all  over  with  shining  bits  of 

[no] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

crystal;  and  when  he  looked  in,  the  caddis  poked  out 
her  head,  and  it  had  turned  into  just  the  shape  of  a 
bird's.  But  when  Tom  spoke  to  her  she  could  not 
answer;  for  her  mouth  and  face  were  tight  tied  up  in 
a  new  night-cap  of  neat  pink  skin.  However,  if  she 
didn't  answer,  all  the  other  caddises  did;  for  they 
held  up  their  hands  and  shrieked  like  the  cats  in 
Struwelpeter:  il0h,  you  nasty  horrid  boy;  there  you 
are  at  it  again!  And  she  had  just  laid  herself  up  for 
a  fortnight's  sleep,  and  then  she  would  have  come  out 
with  such  beautiful  wings,  and  flown  about,  and  laid 
such  lots  of  eggs:  and  now  you  have  broken  her  door, 
and  she  can't  mend  it  because  her  mouth  is  tied  up  for 
a  fortnight,  and  she  will  die.  Who  sent  you  here  to 
worry  us  out  of  our  lives?" 

So  Tom  swam  away.  He  was  very  much  ashamed 
of  himself,  and  felt  all  the  naughtier;  as  little  boys 
do  when  they  have  done  wrong  and  won't  say  so. 

Then  he  came  to  a  pool  full  of  little  trout,  and 
began  tormenting  them,  and  trying  to  catch  them: 
but  they  slipped  through  his  fingers,  and  jumped  clean 
out  of  the  water  in  their  fright.  But  as  Tom  chased 
them,  he  came  close  to  a  great  dark  hover  under  an 

[in] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

alder  root,  and  out  floushed  a  huge  old  brown  trout 
ten  times  as  big  as  he  was,  and  ran  right  against 
him,  and  knocked  all  the  breath  out  of  his  body; 
and  I  don't  know  which  was  the  more  frightened  of 
the  two. 

Then  he  went  on  sulky  and  lonely,  as  he  deserved 
to  be;  and  under  a  bank  he  saw  a  very  ugly  dirty 
creature  sitting,  about  half  as  big  as  himself,  which 
had  six  legs,  and  a  big  stomach,  and  a  most  ridiculous 
head  with  two  great  eyes  and  a  face  just  like  a 
donkey's. 

"Oh,"  said  Tom,  "you  are  an  ugly  fellow  to  be 
sure!"  and  he  began  making  faces  at  him;  and  put 
his  nose  close  to  him,  and  halloed  at  him,  like  a  very 
rude  boy. 

When,  hey  presto!  all  the  thing's  donkey-face 
came  off  in  a  moment,  and  out  popped  a  long  arm 
with  a  pair  of  pincers  at  the  end  of  it,  and  caught 
Tom  by  the  nose.  It  did  not  hurt  him  much;  but  it 
held  him  quite  tight. 


[112] 


> 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


"Yah,  ah!     Oh,  let  me  go!"  cried  Tom. 

"Then  let  me  go,"  said  the  creature.  "I  want  to 
be  quiet.     I  want  to  split." 

Tom  promised  to  let  him  alone,  and  he  let  go. 
"Why  do  you  want  to  split?"  said  Tom. 

"Because  my  brothers  and  sisters  have  all  split, 
and  turned  into  beautiful  creatures  with  wings;  and  I 
want  to  split  too.  Don't  speak  to  me.  I  am  sure  I 
shall  split.     I  will  split!" 

Tom  stood  still,  and  watched  him.  And  he  swelled 
himself,  and  puffed,  and  stretched  himself  out  stiff,  and 
at  last — crack,  puff,  bang — he  opened  all  down  his 
back,  and  then  up  to  the  top  of  his  head. 

And  out  of  his  inside  came  the  most  slender, 
elegant,  soft  creature,  as  soft  and  smooth  as  Tom:  but 
very  pale  and  weak,  like  a  little  child  who  has  been 
ill  a  long  time  in  a  dark  room.     It  moved  its  legs 

[113] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

very  feebly;  and  looked  about  it  half  ashamed,  like  a 
girl  when  she  goes  for  the  first  time  into  a  ballroom; 
and  then  it  began  walking  slowly  up  a  grass  stem  to 
the  top  of  the  water. 

Tom  was  so  astonished  that  he  never  said  a  word: 
but  he  stared  with  all  his  eyes.  And  he  went  up  to 
the  top  of  the  water  too,  and  peeped  out  to  see  what 
would  happen. 

And  as  the  creature  sat  in  the  warm  bright  sun,  a 
wonderful  change  came  over  it.  It  grew  strong  and 
firm;  the  most  lovely  colours  began  to  show  on  its 
body,  blue  and  yellow  and  black,  spots  and  bars  and 
rings;  out  of  its  back  rose  four  great  wings  of  bright 
brown  gauze;  and  its  eyes  grew  so  large  that  they 
filled  all  its  head,  and  shone  like  ten  thousand  diamonds. 

"Oh,  you  beautiful  creature!"  said  Tom;  and  he 
put  out  his  hand  to  catch  it. 

But  the  thing  whirred  up  into  the  air,  and  hung 
poised  on  its  wings  a  moment,  and  then  settled  down 
again  by  Tom  quite  fearless. 

"No!"  it  said,  "you  cannot  catch  me.  I  am  a 
dragon-fly  now,  the  king  of  all  the  flies;  and  I  shall 
dance  in  the  sunshine,  and  hawk  over  the  river,  and 

[114] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

catch  gnats,  and  have  a  beautiful  wife  like  myself. 
I  know  what  I  shall  do.  Hurrah!"  And  he  flew 
away  into  the  air,  and  began  catching  gnats. 

"Oh!  come  back,  come  back,"  cried  Tom,  "you 
beautiful  creature.  I  have  no  one  to  play  with,  and  I 
am  so  lonely  here.  If  you  will  but  come  back  I  will 
never  try  to  catch  you." 

"I  don't  care  whether  you  do  or  not,"  said  the 
dragon-fly;  "for  you  can't.  But  when  I  have  had  my 
dinner,  and  looked  a  little  about  this  pretty  place,  I 
will  come  back,  and  have  a  little  chat  about  all  I  have 
seen  in  my  travels.  Why,  what  a  huge  tree  this  is! 
and  what  huge  leaves  on  it!" 

It  was  only  a  big  dock:  but  you  know  the  dragon- 
fly had  never  seen  any  but  little  water- trees;  starwort, 
and  milfoil,  and  water-crowfoot,  and  such  like;  so  it 
did  look  very  big  to  him.  Besides,  he  was  very  short- 
sighted, as  all  dragon-flies  are;  and  never  could  see  a 
yard  before  his  nose;  any  more  than  a  great  many 
other  folks,  who  are  not  half  as  handsome  as  he. 

The  dragon-fly  did  come  back,  and  chatted  away 
with  Tom.  He  was  a  little  conceited  about  his  fine 
colours  and  his  large  wings;  but  you  know,  he  had 

[115] 


f 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


been  a  poor  dirty  ugly  crea- 
ture all  his  life  before;  so 
there  were  great  excuses  for 
him.  He  was  very  fond  of 
talking  about  all  the  wonder- 
ful things  he  saw  in  the  trees 
and  the  meadows;  and  Tom 
liked  to  listen  to  him,  for  he 
had  forgotten  all  about  them. 
So  in  a  little  while  they  be- 
came great  friends. 

And  I  am  very  glad  to  say, 
that  Tom  learned  such  a 
lesson  that  day,  that  he  did 
not  torment  creatures  for  a 
long  time  after.  And  then 
the  caddises  grew  quite  tame, 
and  used  to  tell  him  strange 
stories  about  the  way  they 
built  their  houses,  and 
changed  their  skins,  and 
turned  at  last  into  winged 
flies;  till  Tom  began  to  long 
[116] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

to  change  his  skin,  and  have  wings  like  them  some 
day. 

And  the  trout  and  he  made  it  up  (for  trout  very 
soon  forget  if  they  have  been  frightened  and  hurt). 
So  Tom  used  to  play  with  them  at  hare  and  hounds, 
and  great  fun  they  had ;  and  he  used  to  try  to  leap  out 
of  the  water,  head  over  heels,  as  they  did  before  a  shower 
came  on;  but  somehow  he  never  could  manage  it.  He 
liked  most,  though,  to  see  them  rising  at  the  flies,  as 
they  sailed  round  and  round  under  the  shadow  of  the 
great  oak,  where  the  beetles  fell  flop  into  the  water, 
and  the  green  caterpillars  let  themselves  down  from 
the  boughs  by  silk  ropes  for  no  reason  at  all;  and  then 
changed  their  foolish  minds  for  no  reason  at  all  either; 
and  hauled  themselves  up  again  into  the  tree,  rolling 
up  the  rope  in  a  ball  between  their  paws;  which  is  a 
very  clever  rope  dancer's  trick;  but  why  they  should 
take  so  much  trouble  about  it  no  one  can  tell. 

And  very  often  Tom  caught  them  just  as  they 
touched  the  water;  and  caught  the  alder-flies,  and  the 
caperers,  and  the  cock-tailed  duns  and  spinners,  yellow, 
and  brown,  and  claret,  and  gray,  and  gave  them  to  his 
friends  the  trout.     Perhaps  he  was  not  quite  kind  to 

[117] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

the  flies;  but  one  must  do  a  good  turn  to  one's  friends 
when  one  can. 

And  at  last  he  gave  up  catching  even  the  flies; 
for  he  made  acquaintance  with  one  by  accident  and 
found  him  a  very  merry  little  fellow.  And  this  was 
the  way  it  happened;  and  it  is  all  quite  true. 

He  was  basking  at  the  top  of  the  water  one  hot 
day  in  July,  catching  duns  and  feeding  the  trout,  when 
he  saw  a  new  sort,  a  dark  gray  little  fellow  with  a 
brown  head.  He  was  a  very  little  fellow  indeed:  but 
he  made  the  most  of  himself,  as  people  ought  to  do. 
He  cocked  up  his  head,  and  he  cocked  up  his  wings, 
and  he  cocked  up  his  tail,  and  he  cocked  up  the  two 
whisks  at  his  tail-end,  and,  in  short,  he  looked  the 
cockiest  little  man  of  all  little  men.  And  so  he  proved 
to  be;  for  instead  of  getting  away,  he  hopped  upon 
Tom's  finger,  and  sat  there  as  bold  as  nine  tailors; 
and  he  cried  out  in  the  tiniest,  shrillest,  squeakiest 
little  voice  you  ever  heard, 

"Much  obliged  to  you,  indeed;  but  I  don't  want 
it  yet." 

"Want  what?"  said  Tom,  quite  taken  aback  by  his 
impudence. 

[118] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Your  leg,  which  you  are  kind  enough  to  hold  out 
for  me  to  sit  on.  I  must  just  go  and  see  after  my 
wife  for  a  few  minutes.  Dear  me!  what  a  trouble- 
some business  a  family  is!"  (though  the  idle  little 
rogue  did  nothing  at  all,  but  left  his  poor  wife  to  lay 
all  the  eggs  by  herself).  "When  I  come  back,  I  shall 
be  glad  of  it,  if  you'll  be  so  good  as  to  keep  it  sticking 
out  just  so;"  and  off  he  flew. 

Tom  thought  him  a  very  cool  sort  of  personage; 
and  still  more  so,  when,  in  five  minutes,  he  came  back, 
and  said — "Ah,  you  were  tired  waiting?  Well,  your 
other  leg  will  do  as  well." 

And  he  popped  himself  down  on  Tom's  knee,  and 
began  chatting  away  in  his  squeaking  voice. 

"So  you  live  under  the  water?  It's  a  low  place. 
I  lived  there  for  some  time;  and  was  very  shabby 
and  dirty.  But  I  didn't  choose  that  that  should  last. 
So  I  turned  respectable,  and  came  up  to  the  top,  and 
put  on  this  gray  suit.  It's  a  very  business-like  suit, 
you  think,  don't  you?" 

"Very  neat  and  quiet  indeed,"  said  Tom. 

"Yes,  one  must  be  quiet  and  neat  and  respectable, 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing  for  a  little,  when  one  be- 

[119] 


■■^Ssg* 


dance  or  two. 
canr 


E    WATER-BABIES 

comes  a  family  man.  But 
I'm  tired  of  it,  that's  the 
truth.  I've  done  quite 
enough  business,  I  con- 
sider, in  the  last  week,  to 
last  me  my  life.  So  I 
shall  put  on  a  ball  dress, 
and  go  out  and  be  a 
smart  man,  and  see  the 
gay  world,  and  have  a 
Why   shouldn't   one  be  jolly  if  one 


mmzmMm 


isttiiti 


"And  what  will  become  of  your  wife?" 

"Oh!  she  is  a  very  plain  stupid  creature,  and 
that's  the  truth;  and  thinks  about  nothing  but  eggs. 
If  she  chooses  to  come,  why  she  may;  and  if  not, 
why  I  go  without  her; — and  here  I  go." 

And,  as  he  spoke,  he  turned  quite  pale,  and  then 
quite  white. 

"Why,  you're  ill!"  said  ^\. 


Tom.     But  he  did  not  an- 
swer. 

"You're     dead,"     said 

[120] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Tom,  looking  at  him  as  he  stood  on  his  knee  as  white 
as  a  ghost. 

"No,  I  ain't!"  answered  a  little  squeaking  voice 
over  his  head.  "This  is  me  up  here,  in  my  ball-dress; 
and  that's  my  skin.  Ha,  ha!  you  could  not  do  such 
a  trick  as  that!" 

And  no  more  Tom  could,  nor  all  the  conjurors 
in  the  world.  For  the  little  rogue  had  jumped  clean 
out  of  his  own  skin,  and  left  it  standing  on  Tom's 
knee,  eyes,  wings,  legs,  tail,  exactly  as  if  it  had  been 
alive. 

"Ha,  ha!"  he  said,  and  he  jerked  and  skipped  up 
and  down,  never  stopping  an  instant,  just  as  if  he 
had  St.  Vitus's  dance.     "Ain't  I  a  pretty  fellow  now?" 

And  so  he  was;  for  his  body  was  white,  and  his 
tail  orange,  and  his  eyes  all  the  colours  of  a  peacock's 
tail.  And  what  was  the  oddest  of  all,  the  whisks  at 
the  end  of  his  tail  had  grown  five  times  as  long  as 
they  were  before. 

"Ah!"  said  he,  "now  I  will  see  the  gay  world. 
My  living  won't  cost  me  much,  for  I  have  no  mouth, 
you  see,  and  no  inside;  so  I  can  never  be  hungry  nor 
have  the  stomach-ache  neither." 

[121] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

No  more  he  had.  He  had  grown  as  dry  and  hard 
and  empty  as  a  quill,  as  such  silly  shallow-hearted 
fellows  deserve  to  grow. 

But,  instead  of  being  ashamed  of  his  emptiness,  he 
was  quite  proud  of  it,  as  a  good  many  fine  gentle- 
men are,  and  began  flirting  and  flipping  up  and  down, 
and  singing — 

"My  wife  shall  dance,  and  I  shall  sing, 
So  merrily  pass  the  day; 
For  I  hold  it  for  quite  the  wisest  thing, 
To  drive  dull  care  away." 

And  he  danced  up  and  down  for  three  days  and 
three  nights,  till  he  grew  so  tired,  that  he  tumbled 
into  the  water,  and  floated  down.  But  what  became 
of  him  Tom  never  knew,  and  he  himself  never  minded; 
for  Tom  heard  him  singing  to  the  last,  as  he  floated 
down — 

"To  drive  dull  care  away-ay-ay!" 

And  if  he  did  not  care,  why  nobody  else  cared 
either. 

But  one  day  Tom  had  a  new  adventure.     He  was 

[122] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

sitting  on  a  water-lily  leaf,  he  and  his  friend  the  dragon- 
fly, watching  the  gnats  dance.  The  dragon-fly  had 
eaten  as  many  as  he  wanted,  and  was  sitting  quite 
still  and  sleepy,  for  it  was  very  hot  and  bright.  The 
gnats  (who  did  not  care  the  least  for  their  poor  brothers' 
death)  danced  a  foot  over  his  head  quite  happily,  and 
a  large  black  fly  settled  within  an  inch  of  his  nose, 


and  began  washing  his  own  face  and  combing  his  hair 
with  his  paws:  but  the  dragon-fly  never  stirred,  and 
kept  on  chatting  to  Tom  about  the  times  when  he 
lived  under  the  water. 

Suddenly,  Tom  heard  the  strangest  noise  up  the 
stream;  cooing,  and  grunting,  and  whining,  and  squeak- 
ing, as  if  you  had  put  into  a  bag  two  stock-doves,  nine 

[123  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

mice,  three  guinea-pigs,  and  a  blind  puppy,  and  left 
them  there  to  settle  themselves  and  make  music. 

He  looked  up  the  water,  and  there  he  saw  a  sight 
as  strange  as  the  noise;  a  great  ball  rolling  over  and 
over  down  the  stream,  seeming  one  moment  of  soft 
brown  fur,  and  the  next  of  shining  glass:  and  yet  it 
was  not  a  ball;  for  sometimes  it  broke  up  and 
streamed  away  in  pieces,  and  then  it  joined  again; 
and  all  the  while  the  noise  came  out  of  it  louder  and 
louder. 

Tom  asked  the  dragon-fly  what  it  could  be:  but, 
of  course,  with  his  short  sight,  he  could  not  even  see 
it,  though  it  was  not  ten  yards  away.  So  he  took  the 
neatest  little  header  into  the  water,  and  started  off  to 
see  for  himself;  and,  when  he  came  near,  the  ball 
turned  out  to  be  four  or  five  beautiful  creatures,  many 
times  larger  than  Tom,  who  were  swimming  about,  and 
rolling,  and  diving,  and  twisting,  and  wrestling,  and 
cuddling,  and  kissing,  and  biting,  and  scratching,  in 
the  most  charming  fashion  that  ever  was  seen.  And 
if  you  don't  believe  me,  you  may  go  to  the  Zoological 
Gardens  (for  I  am  afraid  that  you  won't  see  it  nearer, 
unless,  perhaps,  you  get  up  at  five  in  the  morning,  and 

[124] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


go  down  to  Cordery's  Moor, 
and  watch  by  the  great 
withy  pollard  which  hangs 
over  the  backwater,  where  the 
otters  breed  sometimes),  and 
then  say,  if  otters  at  play  in 
the  water  are  not  the  mer- 
riest, lithest,  gracefullest  crea- 
tures you  ever  saw. 

But,  when  the  biggest  of 
them  saw  Tom,  she  darted  out 
from   the  rest,   and  cried    in 

the  water-language  sharply  enough,  "Quick,  children, 
here  is  something  to  eat,  indeed!"  and  came  at  poor 
Tom,  showing  such  a  wicked  pair  of  eyes,  and  such  a 
set  of  sharp  teeth  in  a  grinning  mouth,  that  Tom, 

who  had  thought  her  very 
handsome,  said  to  himself, 
Handsome  is  that  handsome 
does,  and  slipped  in  between 
the  water-lily  roots  as  fast  as 
he  could,  and  then  turned 
round  and  made  faces  at  her. 
[125] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Come  out,"  said  the  wicked  old  otter,  "or  it  will 
be  worse  for  you." 

But  Tom  looked  at  her  from  between  two  thick 
roots,  and  shook  them  with  all  his  might,  making 
horrible  faces  all  the  while,  just  as  he  used  to  grin 
through  the  railings  at  the  old  women,  when  he 
lived  before.  It  was  not  quite  well  bred,  no  doubt; 
but  you  know,  Tom  had  not  finished  his  education 
yet. 

"Come  away,  children,"  said  the  otter  in  disgust, 
"it  is  not  worth  eating,  after  all.  It  is  only  a  nasty 
eft,  which  nothing  eats,  not  even  those  vulgar  pike  in 
the  pond." 

"I  am  not  an  eft!"  said  Tom;  "efts  have 
tails." 

"You  are  an  eft,"  said  the  otter,  very  positively; 
"I  see  your  two  hands  quite  plain,  and  I  know  you 
have  a  tail." 

"I  tell  you  I  have  not,"  said  Tom.  "Look  here!" 
and  he  turned  his  pretty  little  self  quite  round;  and, 
sure  enough,  he  had  no  more  tail  than  you. 

The  otter  might  have  got  out  of  it  by  saying  that 
Tom  was  a  frog:  but,  like  a  great  many  other  people, 

[126] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


when  she  had  once  said  a  thing,  she  stood  to  it,  right 
or  wrong;  so  she  answered: 

"I  say  you  are  an  eft,   and 
therefore  you  are,  and  not  fit  food 
for    gentlefolk    like    me    and    my 
children.       You    may   stay    there 
till  the  salmon  eat  you  (she  knew 
the  salmon  would    not,   but    she 
wanted    to    frighten    poor  Tom). 
Ha!  ha!  they  will  eat  you,  and 
we    will    eat    them;"    and    the 
otter    laughed    such    a   wicked 
cruel  laugh — as  you  may  hear 
them  do  sometimes;  and  the 
first   time   that   you    hear  it 
you  will  probably  think  it 
is  bogies. 

"What  are  salmon?" 
asked  Tom. 

"Fish,  you  eft,  great 
fish,  nice  fish  to  eat.  They 
are  the  lords  of  the  fish,  and 
we  are  lords  of  the  salmon ;" 

[127] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


and  she  laughed  again.  "We  hunt  them  up  and  down 
the  pools,  and  drive  them  up  into  a  corner,  the  silly 
things;  they  are  so  proud,  and  bully  the  little  trout, 
and  the  minnows,  till  they  see  us  coming,  and  then  they 
are  so  meek  all  at  once;  and  we  catch  them,  but 
we  disdain  to  eat  them  all;  we  just  bite  out  their 
soft  throats  and  suck  their  sweet  juice — Oh,  so 
good!" — (and  she  licked  her  wicked  lips) — "and 
then  throw  them  away,  and  go  and  catch  another- 
They  are  coming  soon,  children,  coming  soon;  I 
can  smell  the  rain  coming  up  off  the  sea.  and  then 
hurrah  for  a  freshet,  and  salmon,  and  plenty  of  eat- 
ing all  day  long." 

And  the  otter  grew  so  proud  that  she  turned  head 

[128] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

over  heels  twice,  and  then  stood  upright  half  out  of 
the  water,  grinning  like  a  Cheshire  cat. 

"And  where  do  they  come  from?"  asked  Tom, 
who  kept  himself  very  close,  for  he  was  considerably 
frightened. 

"Out  of  the  sea,  eft,  the  great  wide  sea,  where  they 
might  stay  and  be  safe  if  they  liked.  But  out  of  the 
sea  the  silly  things  come,  into  the  great  river  down 
below,  and  we  come  up  to  watch  for  them;  and  when 
they  go  down  again  we  go  down  and  follow  them. 
And  there  we  fish  for  the  bass  and  the  pollock,  and 
have  jolly  days  along  the  shore,  and  toss  and  roll  in 
the  breakers,  and  sleep  snug  in  the  warm  dry  crags. 
Ah,  that  is  a  merry  life  too,  children,  if  it  were  not 
for  those  horrid  men." 

"What  are  men?"  asked  Tom;  but  somehow  he 
seemed  to  know  before  he  asked. 

"Two-legged  things,  eft:  and,  now  I  come  to  look 
at  you,  they  are  actually  something  like  you,  if  you 
had  not  a  tail"  (she  was  determined  that  Tom  should 
have  a  tail),  "only  a  great  deal  bigger,  worse  luck  for 
us;  and  they  catch  the  fish  with  hooks  and  lines, 
which  get  into  our  feet  sometimes,  and  set  pots  along 

[129] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

the  rocks  to  catch  lobsters.  They  speared  my  poor 
dear  husband  as  he  went  out  to  find  something  for  me 
to  eat.  I  was  laid  up  among  the  crags  then,  and  we 
were  very  low  in  the  world,  for  the  sea  was  so  rough 
that  no  fish  would  come  in  shore.  But  they  speared 
him,  poor  fellow,  and  I  saw  them  carrying  him  away 
upon  a  pole.  Ah,  he  lost  his  life  for  your  sakes, 
my  children,  poor  dear  obedient  creature  that  he  was." 

And  the  otter  grew  so  sentimental  (for  otters  can 
be  very  sentimental  when  they  choose,  like  a  good 
many  people  who  are  both  cruel  and  greedy,  and  no 
good  to  anybody  at  all)  that  she  sailed  solemnly  away 
down  the  burn,  and  Tom  saw  her  no  more  for  that 
time.  And  lucky  it  was  for  her  that  she  did  so;  for 
no  sooner  was  she  gone,  than  down  the  bank  came 
seven  little  rough  terrier  dogs,  snuffing  and  yapping, 
and  grubbing  and  splashing,  in  full  cry  after  the  otter. 
Tom  hid  among  the  water-lilies  till  they  were  gone; 
for  he  could  not  guess  that  they  were  the  water-fairies 
come  to  help  him. 

But  he  could  not  help  thinking  of  what  the  otter 
had  said  about  the  great  river  and  the  broad  sea. 
And,  as  he  thought,  he  longed  to  go  and  see  them. 

[130] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


He  could  not  tell  why;  but  the  more  he  thought,  the 
more  he  grew  discontented  with  the  narrow  little  stream 
in  which  he  lived,  and  all  his  companions  there;  and 
wanted  to  get  out  into  the  wide  wide  world,  and  enjoy 
all  the  wonderful  sights  of  which  he  was  sure  it  was  full. 

And  once  he  set  off  to  go  down  the  stream.  But 
the  stream  was  very  low;  and  when  he  came  to  the 
shallows  he  could  not  keep  under  water,  for  there  was 
no  water  left  to  keep  under.  So  the  sun  burned  his 
back  and  made  him  sick;  and  he  went  back  again 
and  lay  quiet  in  the  pool  for  a  whole  week  more. 

And  then,  on  the  evening  of  a  very  hot  day,  he 
saw  a  sight. 

He  had  been  very  stupid  all  day,  and  so  had  the 
trout;  for  they  would  not  move  an  inch  to  take  a  fly,, 

[131] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

though  there  were  thousands  on  the  water,  but  lay 
dozing  at  the  bottom  under  the  shade  of  the  stones; 
and  Tom  lay  dozing  too,  and  was  glad  to  cuddle  their 
smooth  cool  sides,  for  the  water  was  quite  warm  and 
unpleasant. 

But  toward  evening  it  grew  suddenly  dark,  and 
Tom  looked  up  and  saw  a  blanket  of  black  clouds 
lying  right  across  the  valley  above  his  head,  resting 
on  the  crags  right  and  left.  He  felt  not  quite  fright- 
ened, but  very  still;  for  everything  was  still.  There 
was  not  a  whisper  of  wind,  nor  a  chirp  of  a  bird  to  be 
heard;  and  next  a  few  great  drops  of  rain  fell  plop  into 
the  water,  and  one  hit  Tom  on  the  nose,  and  made  him 
pop  his  head  down  quickly  enough. 

And  then  the  thunder  roared,  and  the  lightning 
flashed,  and  leapt  across  Vendale  and  back  again,  from 
cloud  to  cloud,  and  cliff  to  cliff,  till  the  very  rocks  in 
the  stream  seemed  to  shake:  and  Tom  looked  up  at 
it  through  the  water,  and  thought  it  the  finest  thing 
he  ever  saw  in  his  life. 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

But  out  of  the  water  he  dared  not  put  his  head; 
for  the  rain  came  down  by  bucketsful,  and  the  hail 
hammered  like  shot  on  the  stream,  and  churned  it 
into  foam;  and  soon  the  stream  rose,  and  rushed 
down,  higher  and  higher,  and  fouler  and  fouler,  full  of 
beetles,  and  sticks;  and  straws,  and  worms,  and  addle- 
eggs,  and  wood-lice,  and  leeches,  and  odds  and  ends, 
and  omnium-gatherums,  and  this,  that,  and  the  other, 
enough  to  fill  nine  museums. 

Tom  could  hardly  stand  against  the  stream,  and 
hid  behind  a  rock.  But  the  trout  did  not;  for  out 
they  rushed  from  among  the  stones,  and  began  gobbling 
the  beetles  and  leeches  in  the  most  greedy  and  quarrel- 
some way,  and  swimming  about  with  great  worms 
hanging  out  of  their  mouths,  tugging  and  kicking  to 
get  them  away  from  each  other. 

And  now,  by  the  flashes  of  the  lightning,  Tom  saw 
a  new  sight — all  the  bottom  of  the  stream  alive  with 
great  eels,  turning  and  twisting  along,  all  down  stream 
and  away.  They  had  been  hiding  for  weeks  past  in  the 
cracks  of  the  rocks,  and  in  burrows  in  the  mud;  and 
Tom  had  hardly  ever  seen  them,  except  now  and  then 
at  night:  but  now  they  were  all  out,  and  went  hurry- 

[133] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

.  %  ~  ing  past  him  so  fiercely  and  wildly  that  he 

&ihQ  \  was  Qmte  frightened.     And  as  they  hurried 

rtti:  (1  past  he  could  hear  them  say  to  each  other, 

\\llj  "We  must  run,  we  must  run.      What  a 

jolly  thunderstorm!    Down  to  the  sea,  down 
to  the  sea!" 

And  then  the  otter  came  by  with  all 
her  brood,  twining  and  sweeping  along  as 
fast  as  the  eels  themselves;  and  she  spied 
Tom  as  she  came  by,  and  said: 

"Now  is  your  time,  eft-,  if  you  want 

to  see  the  world.       Come  along,  children, 

never  mind  those  nasty  eels:  we  shall  break- 

J^O  '•/        fast  on  salmon  to-morrow.     Down  to  the 

'  5l-  '■!         sea>  down  to  the  sea!" 


V6;  t 


Then  came  a  flash  brighter   than    all 

II  tOr  5        the   rest,   and    by  the  light  of  it — in  the 

i  4  «i#  J1!         thousandth  part  of  a  second  they  were  gone 

rViiw    d  again — but  he  had  seen  them,  he  was  cer- 

i/Q  }°'  tain  of  it — three  beautiful  little  white  girls, 

OS 


^ 


<&2^  QP*» 


sffibA;   CK-feT-0""4   --'^'  ,l 


[134] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


with  their  arms  twined  round  each  other's  necks, 
floating  down  the  torrent,  as  they  sang,  "Down  to 
the  sea,  down  to  the  sea!" 

"Oh  stay!  Wait  for  me!"  cried  Tom;  but  they 
were  gone:  yet  he  could  hear  their  voices  clear  and 
sweet  through  the  roar  of  thunder  and  water  and 
wind,  singing  as  they  died  away,  "Down  to  the  sea!" 

"Down  to  the  sea?"  said  Tom;  "everything  is 
going  to  the  sea,  and  I  will  go  too.  Good-bye,  trout." 
But  the  trout  were  so  busy  gobbling  worms  that  they 
never  turned  to  answer  him;  so  that  Tom  was  spared 
the  pain  of  bidding  them  farewell. 

And  now,  down  the  rushing  stream,  guided  by  the 
bright  flashes  of  the  storm;  past  tall  birch-fringed 
rocks,  which  shone  out  one  moment  as  clear  as  day, 
and  the  next  were  dark  as  night;  past  dark  hovers 
under  swirling  banks,  from  which  great  trout  rushed 
out  on  Tom,  thinking  him  to  be  good  to  eat,  and 

[i3S] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


turned    back    sulkily,    for    the    fairies   sent 
them  home  again  with  a  tremendous  scold- 
ing, for  daring  to  meddle  with  a  water-baby; 
on   through   narrow  strids    and    roaring 
cataracts,  where  Tom  was  deafened  and 
blinded  for  a  moment  by  the  rushing 
waters;    along    deep    reaches, 
where    the  white   water-lilies 
tossed    and    flapped  beneath 
the  wind  and  hail;  past  sleep- 
ing   villages;      under     dark 
bridge-arches,  and  away  and 
away  to  the  sea.     And  Tom 
could  not  stop,  and  did  not 
care  to  stop;  he  would  see  the 
world  below,  and    the    salmon, 
the  breakers,  and  the  wide  wide 

And  when  the  daylight  came,  Tom 
found  himself  out  in  the  salmon  river. 

And  after  a  while  he  came  to  a 
place  where  the  river  spread  out  into 
broad  still  shallow  reaches,  so  wide  that 
[136] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


little  Tom,  as  he  put  his  head  out  of  the 
water,  could  hardly  see  across. 

And  there  he  stopped.     He  got  a  little 
frightened.       "This  must  be  the  sea," 
he  thought.      "What  a  wide  place  it 
is!     If  I  go  on  into  it  I  shall  surely 
lose  my  way,  or  some  strange 
thing  will   bite  me.      I  will 
stop  here  and   look  out  for 
the    otter,    or    the    eels,    or 
some  one  to  tell  me  where  I 
shall  go." 

So  he  went  back  a  little 
way,  and  crept  into  a  crack 
of  the  rock,  just  where   the 
river  opened  out  into   the  wide  shal- 
lows, and  watched   for   some   one    to 
tell  him   his  way:  but  the  otter  and 
the  eels  were  gone  on  miles  and  miles 
down  the  stream. 

There  he  waited,  and  slept  too,  for 
he  was  quite  tired  with  his  night's  jour- 
ney; and,  when  he  woke,  the  stream  was 

[i37] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


clearing  to  a  beautiful  amber  hue,  though  it  was  still 
very  high.  And  after  a  while  he  saw  a  sight  which 
made  him  jump  up;  for  he  knew  in  a  moment  it  was 
one  of  the  things  which  he  had  come  to  look  for. 

Such  a  fish!  ten  times  as  big  as  the  biggest  trout, 
and  a  hundred  times  as  big  as  Tom,  sculling  up  the 
stream  past  him,  as  easily  as  Tom  had  sculled  down. 
Such  a  fish!  shining  silver  from  head  to  tail,  and 
here  and  there  a  crimson  dot;  with  a  grand  hooked 
nose  and  grand  curling  lip,  and  a  grand  bright  eye, 
looking  round  him  as  proudly  as  a  king,  and  sur- 
veying the  water  right  and  left  as  if  all  belonged  to 
him.  Surely  he  must  be  the  salmon,  the  king  of  all 
the  fish. 

Tom  was  so  frightened  that  he  longed  to  creep  into 
a  hole;  but  he  need  not  have  been;  for  salmon  are  all 

true  gentlemen,  and,  like  true 
gentlemen,   they  look    noble 
and  proud  enough,  and  yet, 
like    true   gentle- 
men,   they  never 
■nrx.       harm  or. 


quarrel 


[138 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


wito  any  one,  but  go  about 
their  own  business,  and  leave 
rude  f  el  Vows  to  themselves. 

The  salmon  looked  at  him  full 
in  the  face,  and  then  went  on  with- 
out miriiding  him,  with  a  swish 
two  ok  his  tail  which  made  the 
strea*m  boil  again.  And  in  a  few  minutes  came 
another,  and  then  four  or  five,  and  so  on;  and  all 
passed  Tom,  rushing  and  plunging  up  the  cataract 
withi  strong  strokes  of  their  silver  tails,  now  and 
then  leaping  clean  out  of  water  and  up  over  a  rock, 
shining  gloriously  for  a  moment  in  the  bright  sun; 
while  Tom  was  so  delighted  that  he  could  have 
watched  them  all  day  long. 

And  at  last  one  came  up  bigger  than  all  the  rest; 
but  he  came  slowly,  and  stopped,  and  looked  back,  and 
seamed  very  anxious  and  busy.  And  Tom  saw  that 
he  was  helping  another  salmon,  an  especially  handsome 
one,  who  had  not  a  single  spot  upon  it,  but  was  clothed 
in  pure  silver  from  nose  to  tail. 

8rMy  dear,"  said  the  great  fish  to  his  companion, 
Fyou  really  look  dreadfully  tired,  and  you  must  not 


i39 


THE   WATER-BABIE3 


over-exert  yourself  at  first.  Do  rest  yourself  behind 
this  rock;"  and  he  shoved  her  gently  with  his  nose,  to 
the  rock  where  Tom  sat. 

You  must  know  that  this  was  the  salmon's  Wife. 
For  salmon,  like  other  true  gentlemen,  always  choose 
their  lady,  and  love  her,  and  are  true  to  her,  and  take 
care  of  her  and  work  for  her,  and  fight  for  her,  ys  every 
true  gentleman  ought;  and  are  not  like  vulgar 
and  roach  and  pike,  who  have  no  high  feelings.,  and 
take  no  care  of  their  wives. 

Then  he  saw  Tom,  and  looked  at  him  very  fiercely 
one  moment,  as  if  he  was  going  to  bite  him. 

"What  do  you  want  here?"  he  said,  very  fiercely.. 

"Oh,  don't  hurt  me!"  cried  Tom.  "I  only  want 
to  look  at  you;  you  are  so  handsome." 

"Ah!"  said  the  salmon,  very  stately  but  very 
civilly.  "I  really  beg  your  pardon;  I  see  what  you 
are,  my  little  dear.  I  have  met  one  or  two  creatures 
like  you  before,  and  found  them  very  agreeable*  «.ad 
well-behaved.  Indeed,  one  of  them  showed  me  a  great 
kindness  lately,  which  I  hope  to  be  able  to  repay.  'I 
hope  we  shall  not  be  in  your  way  here.  As  soon  as 
this  lady  is  rested,  we  shall  proceed  on  our  journey." 

[140] 


■ 


"Oh,  don't  hurt  me!"  cried  Tom.    u I  only 
want  to  look  at  you;  you  are  so  handsome" 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


What  a  well-bred  old  salmon  he 
was! 

"So   you  have  seen   things 
like  me  before?"  asked  Tom. 

"Several    times,    my 
dear.      Indeed,    it  was 
only  last  night  that  one 
at    the    river's     mouth 
came    and    warned    me 
and  my  wife  of  some  new 
stake-nets  which    had   got    into 
the  stream,  I  cannot  tell  how,  since 
last  winter,  and  showed  us  the  way 
round    them,    in    the    most    charm- 
ingly obliging  way." 

"So    there    are    babies    in    the 
sea?"   cried    Tom,    and    clapped    his 
little  hands.      "Then  I  shall  have  some  one  to  play 
with  there?     How  delightful!" 

"Were  there  no  babies  up  this  stream?"  asked  the 
lady  salmon. 

"No!  and   I  grew  so  lonely.     I   thought  I   saw 
three  last  night;  but  they  were  gone  in  an  instant, 

[141] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

down  to  the  sea.  So  I  went  too;  for  I  had  nothing 
to  play  with  but  caddises  and  dragon-flies  and  trout." 

"Ugh!"  cried  the  lady,  "what  low  company!" 

"My  dear,  if  he  has  been  in  low  company,  he  has 
certainly  not  learnt  their  low  manners,"  said  the  salmon. 

"No,  indeed,  poor  little  dear:  but  how  sad  for 
him  to  live  among  such  people  as  caddises,  who  have 
actually  six  legs,  the  nasty  things;  and  dragon-flies, 
too!  why  they  are  not  even  good  to  eat;  for  I  tried 
them  once,  and  they  are  all  hard  and  empty;  and,  as 
for  trout,  every  one  knows  what  they  are."  Whereon 
she  curled  up  her  lip,  and  looked  dreadfully  scornful, 
while  her  husband  curled  up  his  too,  till  he  looked  as 
proud  as  Alcibiades. 

"Why  do  you  dislike  the  trout  so?"  asked  Tom. 

"My  dear,  we  do  not  even  mention  them,  if  we 
can  help  it;  for  I  am  sorry  to  say  they  are  relations 
of  ours  who  do  us  no  credit.  A  great  many  years  ago 
they  were  just  like  us:  but  they  were  so  lazy,  and 
cowardly,  and  greedy,  that  instead  of  going  down  to 
the  sea  every  year  to  see  the  world  and  grow  strong 
and  fat,  they  chose  to  stay  and  poke  about  in  the  little 
streams  and  eat  worms  and  grubs;  and  they  are  very 

[142] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 


properly  punished  for  it;  for  they  have  grown  ugly 
and  brown  and  spotted  and  small;  and  are  actually  so 
degraded  in  their  tastes,  that  they  will  eat  our  children." 
"And  then  they  pretend  to  scrape  acquaintance 
with  us  again,"  said  the  lady.  "Why,  I  have  actually 
known  one  of  them  propose  to  a  lady  salmon,  the 
impudent  little  creature." 

'I  should  hope,"  said  the  gentleman,  "that  there 
are  very  few  ladies  of  our  race  who  would  degrade  them- 

[i43] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

selves  by  listening  to  such  a  creature  for  an  instant. 
If  I  saw  such  a  thing  happen,  I  should  consider  it  my 
duty  to  put  them  both  to  death  upon  the  spot."  So 
the  old  salmon  said,  like  an  old  blue-blooded  hidalgo 
of  Spain;  and  what  is  more,  he  would  have  done  it 
too.  For  you  must  know,  no  enemies  are  so  bitter 
against  each  other  as  those  who  are  of  the  same  race; 
and  a  salmon  looks  on  a  trout  as  some  great  folks  look 
on  some  little  folks,  as  something  just  too  much  like 
himself  to  be  tolerated.  ) 


[144] 


3SD0503^^^^^5iC>ii^^^^^S 


p 

s 


it 
IP 

"6 
jfz, 

s  01 

1     o  o 

%3 


CHAPTER   IV 


600 


m 


E^9^x>f:p^9^^oi^B^3^^&s^^ 


•T 


CHAPTER    IV 


SO  the  salmon  went  up,  after  Tom  had 
warned  them  of  the  wicked  old  otter;  and 
Tom  went  down,  but  slowly  and  cau- 
tiously, coasting  along  the  shore.  He 
was  many  days  about  it,  for  it  was  many  miles  down 
to  the  sea;  and  perhaps  he  would  never  have  found  his 
way,  if  the  fairies  had  not  guided  him,  without  his  seeing 
their  fair  faces,  or  feeling  their  gentle  hands. 

And,  as  he  went,  he  had  a  very  strange  adventure. 
It  was  a  clear  still  September  night,  and  the  moon 
shone  so  brightly  down  through  the  water,  that  he 
could  not  sleep,  though  he  shut  his  eyes  as  tight  as 
possible.     So  at  last  he  came  up  to  the  top,  and  sat 

[i47] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

upon  a  little  point  of  rock,  and  looked  up  at  the 
broad  yellow  moon,  and  wondered  what  she  was,  and 
thought  that  she  looked  at  him.  And  he  watched 
the  moonlight  on  the  rippling  river,  and  the  black 
heads  of  the  firs,  and  the  silver-frosted  lawns,  and 
listened  to  the  owl's  hoot,  and  the  snipe's  bleat,  and 
the  fox's  bark,  and  the  otter's  laugh;  and  smelt  the 
soft  perfume  of  the  birches,  and  the  wafts  of  heather 
honey  off  the  grouse  moor  far  above;  and  felt  very 
happy,  though  he  could  not  well  tell  why.  You,  of 
course,  would  have  been  very  cold  sitting  there  on 
a  September  night,  without  the  least  bit  of  clothes 
on  your  wet  back;  but  Tom  was  a  water-baby,  and 
therefore  felt  cold  no  more  than  a  fish. 

Suddenly,  he  saw  a  beautiful  sight.  A  bright  red 
light  moved  along  the  river-side,  and  threw  down  into 
the  water  a  long  tap-root  of  flame.  Tom,  curious 
little  rogue  that  he  was,  must  needs  go  and  see  what 
it  was;  so  he  swam  to  the  shore,  and  met  the  light 
as  it  stopped  over  a  shallow  run  at  the  edge  of  a  low 
rock. 

And  there,  underneath  the  light,  lay  five  or  six 
great   salmon,    looking   up   at   the   flame  with   their 

[148] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

great  goggle  eyes,  and  wagging  their  tails,  as  if  they 
were  very  much  pleased  at  it. 

Tom  came  to  the  top,  to  look  at  this  wonderful 
light  nearer,  and  made  a  splash. 

And  he  heard  a  voice  say: 


"There  was  a  fish  rose." 

He  did  not  know  what  the  words  meant:  but  he 
seemed  to  know  the  sound  of  them,  and  to  know  the 
voice  which  spoke  them;  and  he  saw  on  the  bank 
three  great  two-legged  creatures,  one  of  whom  held 
the  light,  flaring  and  sputtering,  and  another  a  long 

[i49] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


pole.  And  he  knew  that  they  were  men,  and  was 
frightened,  and  crept  into  a  hole  in  the  rock,  from 
which  he  could  see  what  went  on. 

The  man  with  the  torch  bent  down  over  the  water, 
and  looked  earnestly  in;  and  then  he  said: 

"Tak'  that  muckle  fellow,  lad;  he's  ower  fifteen 
punds;  and  haud  your  hand  steady." 

Tom  felt  that  there  was  some  danger  coming,  and 
longed  to  warn  the  foolish  salmon,  who  kept  staring 
up  at  the  light  as  if  he  was  bewitched.  But  before 
he  could  make  up  his  mind,  down  came  the  pole 
through  the  water;  there  was  a  fearful  splash  and 
struggle,  and  Tom  saw  that  the  poor  salmon  was 
speared  right  through,  and  was  lifted  out  of  the  water. 
■  And  then,  from  behind,  there  sprang  on  these 
three  men  three  other  men;  and  there  were  shouts, 
and  blows,  and  words  which  Tom  recollected  to  have 
heard  before;  and  he  shuddered  and  turned  sick  at 

them  now,  for  he 

felt  somehow  that 

they  were  strange, 


[150] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

and  ugly,  and  wrong,  and  horrible.  And  it  all  began 
to  come  back  to  him.  They  were  men;  and  they 
were  fighting;  savage,  desperate,  up-and-down  fighting, 
such  as  Tom  had  seen  too  many  times  before. 

And  he  stopped  his  little  ears,  and  longed  to 
swim  away;  and  was  very  glad  that  he  was  a  water- 
baby,  and  had  nothing  to  do  any  more  with  horrid 
dirty  men,  with  foul  clothes  on  their  backs,  and  foul 
words  on  their  lips;  but  he  dared  not  stir  out  of  his 
hole:  while  the  rock  shook  over  his  head  with  the 
trampling  and  struggling  of  the  keepers  and  the 
poachers. 

All  of  a  sudden  there  was  a  tremendous  splash,  and 
a  frightful  flash,  and  a  hissing,  and  all  was  still. 

For  into  the  water,  close  to  Tom,  fell  one  of  the 
men;  he  who  held  the  light  in  his  hand.  Into  the 
swift  river  he  sank,  and  rolled  over  and  over  in  the 
current.  Tom  heard  the  men  above  run  along,  seem- 
ingly looking  for  him;  but  he  drifted  down  into  the 
deep  hole  below,  and  there  lay  quite  still,  and  they 
could  not  find  him. 

Tom  waited  a  long  time,  till  all  was  quiet;  and 
then  he  peeped  out,  and  saw  the  man  lying.     At  last 

[151] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


he  screwed  up  his  courage  and 
swam  down  to  him.  "Perhaps," 
he  thought,  "the  water  has  made 
him  fall  asleep,  as  it  did  me." 
Then  he  went  nearer.  He  grew  more  and 
more  curious,  he  could  not  tell  why.  He  must 
go  and  look  at  him.  He  would  go  very 
quietly,  of  course;  so  he  swam  round  and 
round  him,  closer  and  closer;  and,  as  he  did 
not  stir,  at  last  he  came  quite  close  and 
looked  him  in  the  face. 

The  moon  shone  so  bright  that  Tom 
could  see  every  feature;  and,  as  he  saw,  he 
recollected,  bit  by  bit,  it  was  his  old  master, 
Grimes. 

Tom  turned  tail,  and  swam  away  as  fast 
as  he  could. 

"Oh  dear  me!"  he  thought,  "now  he  will 
turn  into  a  water-baby.  What  a  nasty  trouble- 
some one  he  will  be!  And  perhaps  he  will  find 
me  out,  and  beat  me  again." 

So  he  went  up  the  river  again  a  little 
way,  and  lay  there  the  rest  of  the  night  under 

[152] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


an  alder  root;  but,  when  morn- 
ing came,  he  longed  to  go  down 
again  to  the  big  pool,  and  see 
whether  Mr.  Grimes  had  turned 
into  a  water-baby  yet. 

So  he  went  very  carefully,  peeping  round 
all  the  rocks,  and  hiding  under  all  the  roots. 
Mr.  Grimes  lay  there  still;  he  had  not  turned 
into  a  water-baby.  In  the  afternoon  Tom 
went  back  again.  He  could  not  rest  till  he 
had  found  out  what  had  become  of  Mr.  Grimes. 
But  this  time  Mr.  Grimes  was  gone;  and  Tom 
made  up  his  mind  that  he  was  turned  into  a 
water-baby. 

He  might  have  made  himself  easy,  poor 
little  man;  Mr.  Grimes  did  not  turn  into  a 
water-baby,  or  anything  like  one  at  all.  But 
he  did  not  make  himself  easy;  and  a  long  time  f} 
he  was  fearful  lest  he  should  meet  Grimes 
suddenly  in  some  deep  pool.  He  could  not 
know  that  the  fairies  had  carried  him  away, 
and  put  him,  where  they  put  everything  which 
falls  into  the  water,  exactly  where  it  ought  to 

[i53] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

be.  But,  do  you  know,  what  had  happened  to  Mr. 
Grimes  had  such  an  effect  on  him  that  he  never 
poached  salmon  any  more.  And  it  is  quite  certain 
that,  when  a  man  becomes  a  confirmed  poacher,  the 
only  way  to  cure  him  is  to  put  him  under  water  for 
twenty-four  hours,  like  Grimes. 

Then  Tom  went  on  down,  for  he  was  afraid  of 
staying  near  Grimes:  and  as  he  went,  all  the  vale 
looked  sad.  The  red  and  yellow  leaves  showered  down 
into  the  river;  the  flies  and  beetles  were  all  dead  and 
gone;  the  chill  autumn  fog  lay  low  upon  the  hills,  and 
sometimes  spread  itself  so  thickly  on  the  river  that 
he  could  not  see  his  way.  But  he  felt  his  way  instead, 
following  the  flow  of  the  stream,  day  after  day,  past 
great  bridges,  past  boats  and  barges,  past  the  great 
town,  with  its  wharfs,  and  mills,  and  tall  smoking 
chimneys,  and  ships  which  rode  at  anchor  in  the 
stream;  and  now  and  then  he  ran  against  their  hawsers, 
and  wondered  what  they  were,  and  peeped  out,  and  saw 
the  sailors  lounging  on  board  smoking  their  pipes; 
and  ducked  under  again,  for  he  was  terribly  afraid  of 
being  caught  by  man  and  turned  into  a  chimney-sweep 
once  more.     He  did  not  know  that  the  fairies  were 

[154] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

close  to  him  always,  shutting  the  sailors'  eyes  lest 
they  should  see  him,  and  turning  him  aside  from 
millraces,  and  sewer-mouths,  and  all  foul  and  danger- 
ous things.  Poor  little  fellow,  it  was  a  dreary  journey 
for  him;  and  more  than  once  he  longed  to  be  back  in 
Vendale,  playing  with  the  trout  in  the  bright  summer 
sun.  But  it  could  not  be.  What  has  been  once  can 
never  come  over  again.  And  people  can  be  little  babies, 
even  water-babies,  only  once  in  their  lives. 

Besides,  people  who  make  up  their  minds  to  go 
and  see  the  world,  as  Tom  did,  must  needs  find  it  a 
weary  journey.  Lucky  for  them  if  they  do  not  lose 
heart  and  stop  half-way,  instead  of  going  on  bravely 
to  the  end  as  Tom  did.  For  then  they  will  remain 
neither  boys  nor  men,  neither  fish,  flesh,  nor  good  red- 
herring:  having  learnt  a  great  deal  too  much,  and  yet 
not  enough;  and  sown  their  wild  oats,  without  having 
the  advantage  of  reaping  them. 

But  Tom  was  always  a  brave,  determined,  little 
English  bull-dog,  who  never  knew  when  he  was  beaten; 
and  on  and  on  he  held,  till  he  saw  a  long  way  off  the 
red  buoy  through  the  fog.  And  then  he  found  to  his  sur- 
prise, the  stream  turned  round,  and  running  up  inland. 

[i55] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

It  was  the  tide,  of  course:  but  Tom  knew  nothing 
of  the  tide.  He  only  knew  that  in  a  minute  more  the 
water,  which  had  been  fresh,  turned  salt  all  round 
him.  And  then  there  came  a  change  over  him.  He 
felt  as  strong,  and  light,  and  fresh,  as  if  his  veins  had 
run  champagne;  and  gave,  he  did  not  know  why, 
three  skips  out  of  the  water,  a  yard  high,  and  head 


over  heels,  just  as  the  salmon  do  when  they  first  touch 
the  noble  rich  salt  water,  which,  as  some  wise  men  tell 
us,  is  the  mother  of  all  living  things. 

He  did  not  care  now  for  the  tide  being  against 
him.  The  red  buoy  was  in  sight,  dancing  in  the  open 
sea;  and  to  the  buoy  he  would  go,  and  to  it  he  went. 
He  passed  great  shoals  of  bass  and  mullet,  leaping  and 

[156] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


rushing  in  after  the  shrimps,  but  he  never  heeded 
them,  or  they  him;  and  once  he  passed  a  great  black 
shining  seal,  who  was  coming  in  after  the  mullet. 
The  seal  put  his  head  and  shoulders  out  of  water,  and 
stared  at  him,  looking  exactly  like  a  fat  old  greasy 
negro  with  a  gray  pate.  And  Tom,  instead  of  being 
frightened,  said,  "How  d'ye  do,  sir;  what  a  beautiful 
place  the  sea  is!"  And  the  old  seal,  instead  of  trying 
to  bite  him,  looked  at  him  with  his  soft  sleepy  winking 
eyes,  and  said,  "Good  tide  to  you,  my  little  man;  are 
you  looking  for  your  brothers  and  sisters?  I  passed 
them  all  at  play  outside." 

"Oh,  then,"  said  Tom,  "I  shall  have  playfellows 


at  last,"  and  he 
the     buoy,     and 
it     (for    he 
out     of 
and    sat 
looked 
ter- babies: 
none  to  be  seen 
came   in   freshly   wi 
the  fog  away;  and  the 


swam   on  to 

got    upon 

was    quite 

breath) 

there,  and 

round  for  wa- 

but     there    were 

The  sea-breeze 

the  tide  and  blew 

little  waves  danced 


i57] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

for  joy  around  the  buoy,  and  the  old  buoy  danced  with 
them.  The  shadows  of  the  clouds  ran  races  over  the 
bright  blue  bay,  and  yet  never  caught  each  other  up; 
and  the  breakers  plunged  merrily  upon  the  wide  white 
sands,  and  jumped  up  over  the  rocks,  to  see  what  the 
green  fields  inside  were  like,  and  tumbled  down  and  broke 
themselves  all  to  pieces,  and  never  minded  it  a  bit,  but 
mended  themselves  and  jumped  up  again.  And  the 
terns  hovered  over  Tom  like  huge  white  dragon-flies 
with  black  heads,  and  the  gulls  laughed  like  girls  at 
play,  and  the  sea-pies,  with  their  red  bills  and  legs, 
flew  to  and  fro  from  shore  to  shore,  and  whistled  sweet 
and  wild.  And  Tom  looked  and  looked,  and  listened; 
and  he  would  have  been  very  happy,  if  he  could  only 
have  seen  the  water-babies.  Then  when  the  tide  turned, 
he  left  the  buoy,  and  swam  round  and  round  in  search 
of  them:  but  in  vain.  Sometimes  he  thought  he  heard 
them  laughing:  but  it  was  only  the  laughter  of  the 
ripples.  And  sometimes  he  thought  he  saw  them  at 
the  bottom:  but  it  was  only  white  and  pink  shells. 
And  once  he  was  sure  he  had  found  one,  for  he  saw  two 
bright  eyes  peeping  out  of  the  sand.  So  he  dived  down, 
and  began  scraping  the  sand  away,  and  cried,  "Don't 

[158] 


©  Dodd,  Mead  &  Company,  Inc 


And  Tom  sat  upon  the  buoy  long  days 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

hide;  I  do  want  some  one  to  play  with  so  much!"  And 
out  jumped  a  great  turbot  with  his  ugly  eyes  and 
mouth  all  awry,  and  flopped  away  along  the  bottom, 
knocking  poor  Tom  over.  And  he  sat  down  at  the 
bottom  of  the  sea,  and  cried  salt  tears  from  sheer 
disappointment. 

To  have  come  all  this  way,  and  faced  so  many 
dangers,  and  yet  to  find  no  water-babies!  How  hard! 
Well,  it  did  seem  hard:  but  people,  even  little  babies, 
cannot  have  all  they  want  without  waiting  for  it,  and 
working  for  it  too,  my  little  man,  as  you  will  find  out 
some  day. 

And  Tom  sat  upon  the  buoy  long  days,  long  weeks, 
looking  out  to  sea,  and  wondering  when  the  water- 
babies  would  come  back;  and  yet  they  never  came. 

Then  he  began  to  ask  all  the  strange  things  which 
came  in  out  of  the  sea  if  they  had  seen  any;  and  some 
said  "Yes,"  and  some  said  nothing  at  all. 

He  asked  the  bass  and  the  pollock;  but  they  were 
so  greedy  after  the  shrimps  that  they  did  not  care  to 
answer  him  a  word. 

Then  there  came  in  a  whole  fleet  of  purple  sea- 
snails,  floating  along,  each  on  a  sponge  full  of  foam, 

[iS9] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

and  Tom  said,  "Where  do  you  come  from,  you  pretty 
creatures?  and  have  you  seen  the  water-babies?" 

And  the  sea-snails  answered,  "Whence  we  come 
we  know  not;  and  whither  we  are  going,  who  can 
tell?  We  float  out  our  life  in  the  mid-ocean,  with 
the  warm  sunshine  above  our  heads,  and  the  warm 
gulf-stream  below;  and  that  is  enough  for  us.  Yes; 
perhaps  we  have  seen  the  water-babies.  We  have  seen 
many  strange  things  as  we  sailed  along."  And  they 
floated  away,  the  happy  stupid  things,  and  all  went 
ashore  upon  the  sands. 

Then  there  came  in  a  great  lazy  sunfish,  as  big  as 
a  fat  pig  cut  in  half;  and  he  seemed  to  have  been  cut 
in  half  too,  and  squeezed  in  a  clothes-press  till  he  was 
flat;  but  to  all  his  big  body  and  big  fins  he  had  only 
a  little  rabbit's  mouth,  no  bigger  than  Tom's;  and, 
when  Tom  questioned  him,  he  answered  in  a  little 
squeaky  feeble  voice: 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know;  I've  lost  my  way.  I 
meant  to  go  to  the  Chesapeake,  and  I'm  afraid  I've 
got  wrong  somehow.  Dear  me!  it  was  all  by  following 
that  pleasant  warm  water.     I'm  sure  I've  lost  my  way." 

And,  when  Tom  asked  him  again,  he  could  only 

[160] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


answer,  "I've  lost  my  way.  Don't 
talk  to  me;  I  want  to  think." 

But,  like  a  good  many  other 
people,  the  more  he  tried  to  think 
the  less  he  could  think;  and  Tom 
saw  him  blundering  about  all  day, 
till  the  coast-guardsmen  saw  his 
big  fin  above  the  water,  and  rowed 
out,  and  struck  a  boat-hook  into 
him,  and  took  him  away.  They 
took  him  up  to  the  town  and 
showed  him  for  a  penny  a  head, 
and  made  a  good  day's  work  of  it. 
But  of  course  Tom  did  not  know 
that. 

Then  there  came  by  a  shoal  of 
porpoises,  rolling  as  they  went — 
papas,  and  mammas,  and  little 
children — and  all  quite  smooth  and 
shiny,  because  the  fairies  French- 
polish  them  every  morning;  and 
they  sighed  so  softly  as  they  came 
by,    that    Tom    took    courage    to 

[161] 


< 


^oW 


yj^ 


?/ 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

speak  to  them:  but  all  they  answered  was,   "Hush, 
hush,  hush;"  for  that  was  all  they  had  learnt  to  say. 

And  then  there  came  a  shoal  of  basking  sharks, 
some  of  them  as  long  as  a  boat,  and  Tom  was  fright- 
ened at  them.  But  they  were  very  lazy  good-natured 
fellows,  not  greedy  tyrants,  like  white  sharks  and  blue 
sharks  and  ground  sharks  and  hammer-heads,  who 
eat  men,  or  saw-fish  and  threshers  and  ice-sharks,  who 
hunt  the  poor  old  whales.  They  came  and  rubbed 
their  great  sides  against  the  buoy,  and  lay  basking 
in  the  sun  with  their  backfins  out  of  water;  and  winked 
at  Tom:  but  he  never  could  get  them  to  speak.  They 
had  eaten  so  many  herrings  that  they  were  quite 
stupid;  and  Tom  was  glad  when  a  collier  brig  came 
by  and  frightened  them  all  away;  for  they  did  smell 
most  horribly,  certainly,  and  he  had  to  hold  his  nose 
tight  as  long  as  they  were  there. 

And  then  there  came  by  a  beautiful  creature,  like 
a  ribbon  of  pure  silver  with  a  sharp  head  and  very 
long  teeth;  but  it  seemed  very  sick  and  sad.  Some- 
times it  rolled  helpless  on  its  side;  and  then  it  dashed 
away  glittering  like  white  fire;  and  then  it  lay  sick 
again  and  motionless. 

[162] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

"Where  do  you  come  from?"  asked  Tom.  "And 
why  are  you  so  sick  and  sad?" 

"I  come  from  the  warm  Carolinas,  and  the  sand- 
banks fringed  with  pines;  where  the  great  owl-rays 
leap  and  flap,  like  giant  bats,  upon  the  tide.  But  I 
wandered  north  and  north,  upon  the  treacherous  warm 
gulf-stream,  till  I  met  with  the  cold  icebergs,  afloat  in 
the  mid  ocean.  So  I  got  tangled  among  the  icebergs, 
and  chilled  with  their  frozen  breath.  But  the  water- 
babies  helped  me  from  among  them,  and  set  me  free 
again.  And  now  I  am  mending  every  day;  but  I  am 
very  sick  and  sad;  and  perhaps  I  shall  never  get  home 
again  to  play  with  the  owl-rays  any  more." 


[163] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Oh!"  cried  Tom.  "And  you  have  seen  water- 
babies?     Have  you  seen  any  near  here?" 

"Yes;  they  helped  me  again  last  night,  or  I  should 
have  been  eaten  by  a  great  black  porpoise." 

How  vexatious!  The  water-babies  close  to  him, 
and  yet  he  could  not  find  one. 

And  then  he  left  the  buoy,  and  used  to  go  along 
the  sands  and  round  the  rocks,  and  come  out  in  the 
night — like  the  forsaken  Merman  in  Mr.  Arnold's 
beautiful,  beautiful  poem,  which  you  must  learn  by 
heart  some  day — and  sit  upon  a  point  of  rock,  among 
the  shining  sea-weeds,  in  the  low  October  tides,  and 
cry  and  call  for  the  water-babies;  but  he  never  heard 
a  voice  call  in  return.  And  at  last,  with  his  fretting 
and  crying,  he  grew  quite  lean  and  thin. 

But  one  day  among  the  rocks  he  found  a  play- 
fellow. It  was  not  a  water-baby,  alas!  but  it  was  a 
lobster;  and  a  very  distinguished  lobster  he  was;  for 
he  had  live  barnacles  on  his  claws,  which  is  a  great 
mark  of  distinction  in  lobsterdom,  and  no  more  to 
be  bought  for  money  than  a  good  conscience  or  the 
Victoria  Cross. 

Tom  had  never  seen  a  lobster  before;  and  he  was 

[164] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

mightily  taken  with  this  one;  for  he  thought  him  the 
most  curious,  odd,  ridiculous  creature  he  had  ever 
seen;  and  there  he  was  not  far  wrong;  for  all  the  ingeni- 
ous men,  and  all  the  scientific  men,  and  all  the  fanciful 
men,  in  the  world,  with  all  the  old  German  bogy- 
painters  into  the  bargain,  could  never  invent,  if  all 
their  wits  were  boiled  into  one,  anything  so  curious, 
and  so  ridiculous,  as  a  lobster. 

He  had  one  claw  knobbed  and  the  other  jagged; 
and  Tom  delighted  in  watching  him  hold  on  to  the 
seaweed  with  his  knobbed  claw,  while  he  cut  up  salads 
with  his  jagged  one,  and  then  put  them  into  his  mouth, 
after  smelling  at  them,  like  a  monkey.  And  always 
the  little  barnacles  threw  out  their  casting-nets  and 
swept  the  water,  and  came  in  for  their  share  of  what- 
ever there  was  for  dinner. 

But  Tom  was  most  astonished  to  see  how  he  fired 
himself  off — snap!  like  the  leap-frogs  which  you  make 
out  of  a  goose's  breast-bone.  Certainly  he  took  the 
most  wonderful  shots,  and  backwards,  too.  For,  if  he 
wanted  to  go  into  a  narrow  crack  ten  yards  off,  what 
do  you  think  he  did?  If  he  had  gone  in  head  fore- 
most,   of   course   he   could   not   have   turned   round. 

[165] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 


So  he  used  to  turn  his  tail  to  it,  and  lay  his  long  horns, 
which  carry  his  sixth  sense  in  their  tips  (and  nobody 
knows  what  that  sixth  sense  is),  straight  down  his 
back  to  guide  him,  and  twist  his  eyes  back  till  they 
almost  came  out  of  their  sockets,  and  then  made 
ready,  present,  fire,  snap! — and  away  he  went,  pop 
into  the  hole;  and  peeped  out  and  twiddled  his  whiskers, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "You  couldn't  do  that." 

Tom  asked  him  about  water-babies.  "Yes,"  he 
said.  He  had  seen  them  often.  But  he  did  not  think 
much  of  them.  They  were  meddlesome  little  creatures, 
that  went  about  helping  fish  and  shells  which  got  into 
scrapes.  Well,  for  his  part,  he  should  be  ashamed  to 
be  helped  by  little  soft  creatures  that  had  not  even  a 
shell  on  their  backs.  He  had  lived  quite  long  enough 
in  the  world  to  take  care  of  himself. 

He  was  a  conceited  fellow,  the  old  lobster,  and  not 
very  civil  to  Tom;  and  you  will  hear  how  he  had  to 
alter  his  mind  before  he  was  done,  as  conceited  people 
generally  have.     But  he  was  so  funny,  and  Tom  so 

[166] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

lonely,  that  he  could  not  quarrel  with  him;  and  they 
used  to  sit  in  holes  in  the  rocks,  and  chat  for  hours. 

And  about  this  time  there  happened  to  Tom  a 
very  strange  and  important  adventure — so  important, 
indeed,  that  he  was  very  near  never  finding  the  water- 
babies  at  all;  and  I  am  sure  you  would  have  been 
sorry  for  that. 

I  hope  that  you  have  not  forgotten  the  little  white 
lady  all  this  while.  At  least,  here  she  comes,  looking 
like  a  clean  white  good  little  darling,  as  she  always 
was,  and  always  will  be.  For  it  befell  in  the  pleasant 
short  December  days,  when  the  wind  always  blows 
from  the  south-west,  till  Old  Father  Christmas  comes 
and  spreads  the  great  white  table-cloth,  ready  for 
little  boys  and  girls  to  give  the  birds  their  Christmas 
dinner  of  crumbs — it  befell  (to  go  on)  in  the  pleasant 
December  days,  that  Sir  John  was  so  busy  hunting 
that  nobody  at  home  could  get  a  word  out  of  him. 
Four  days  a  week  he  hunted,  and  very  good  sport  he 


[167] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

had;  and  the  other  two  he  went  to  the  bench  and  the 
board  of  guardians,  and  very  good  justice  he  did. 

It  befell  (to  go  on  a  second  time)  that  Sir  John, 
hunting  all  day,  and  dining  at  five,  fell  asleep  every 
evening,  and  snored  so  terribly  that  all  the  windows 
in  Harthover  shook,  and  the  soot  fell  down  the  chim- 
neys. Whereon  My  Lady,  being  no  more  able  to  get 
conversation  out  of  him  than  a  song  out  of  a  dead 
nightingale,  determined  to  go  off  and  leave  him,  and 
the  doctor,  and  Captain  Swinger  the  agent,  to  snore  in 
concert  every  evening  to  their  hearts'  content.  So 
she  started  for  the  seaside  with  all  the  children,  in 
order  to  put  herself  and  them  into  condition  by  mild 
applications  of  iodine.  She  might  as  well  have  stayed 
at  home  and  used  Parry's  liquid  horse-blister,  for  there 
was  plenty  of  it  in  the  stables;  and  then  she  would 
have  saved  her  money,  and  saved  the  chance,  also,  of 
making  all  the  children  ill  instead  of  well  (as  hundreds 
are  made),  by  taking  them  to  some  nasty  smelling 
undrained  lodging,  and  then  wondering  how  they 
caught  scarlatina  and  diphtheria:  but  people 
won't  be  wise  enough  to  understand  that  till 
they  are  dead   of   bad   smells,   and   then   it  will   be 

[168] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

too  late;  besides,  you  see,  Sir  John  did  certainly 
snore  very  loud. 

But  where  she  went  to  nobody  must  know,  for  fear 
young  ladies  should  begin  to  fancy  that  there  are 
water-babies  there!  and  so  hunt  and  howk  after  them 
(besides  raising  the  price  of  lodgings),  and  keep  them 
in  aquariums,  as  the  ladies  at  Pompeii  (as  you  may 
see  by  the  paintings)  used  to  keep  Cupids  in  cages. 
But  nobody  ever  heard  that  they  starved  the  Cupids, 
or  let  them  die  of  dirt  and  neglect,  as  English  young 
ladies  do  by  the  poor  sea-beasts.  So  nobody  must 
know  where  My  Lady  went.  Letting  water-babies 
die  is  as  bad  as  taking  singing  birds'  eggs;  for,  though 
there  are  thousands,  ay,  millions,  of  both  of  them  in 
the  world,  yet  there  is  not  one  too  many. 

Now  it  befell  that,  on  the  very  shore,  and  over  the 
very  rocks,  where  Tom  was  sitting  with  his  friend  the 
lobster,  there  walked  one  day  the  little  white  lady, 
Ellie  herself,  and  with  her  a  very  wise  man  indeed — 
Professor  Ptthmllnsprts. 

He  was,  as  I  said,  a  very  great  naturalist;  a  very 
worthy,  kind,  good-natured  little  old  gentleman;  and 
very  fond  of  children;  and  very  good  to  all  the  world 

[169] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

as  long  as  it  was  good  to  him.  Only  one  fault  he  had, 
which  cock-robins  have  likewise,  as  you  may  see  if  you 
look  out  of  the  nursery  window — that,  when  any  one 
else  found  a  curious  worm,  he  would  hop  round  them, 
and  peck  them,  and  set  up  his  tail,  and  bristle  up  his 
feathers,  just  as  a  cock-robin  would;  and  declare  that 
he  found  the  worm  first;  and  that  it  was  his  worm; 
and,  if  not,  that  then  it  was  not  a  worm  at  all. 

He  had  met  Sir  John  at  Scarborough,  or  Fleetwood, 
or  somewhere  or  other  (if  you  don  t  care  where,  nobody 
else  does),  and  had  made  acquaintance  with  him,  and 
become  very  fond  of  his  children.  Now,  Sir  John  knew 
nothing  about  sea-cockyolybirds,  and  cared  less,  pro- 
vided the  fishmonger  sent  him  good  fish  for  dinner; 
and  My  Lady  knew  as  little:  but  she  thought  it  proper 
that  the  children  should  know  something.  For  in  the 
stupid  old  times,  you  must  understand,  children  were 
taught  to  know  one  thing,  and  to  know  it  well;  but  in 
these  enlightened  new  times  they  are  taught  to  know  a 
little  about  everything,  and  to  know  it  all  ill;  which  is 
a  great  deal  pleasanter  and  easier,  and  therefore  quite 
right. 

So  Ellie  and  he  were  walking  on  the  rocks,  and 

[170] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

he  was  showing  her  about  one  in  ten  thousand  of  all 
the  beautiful  and  curious  things  which  are  to  be  seen 
there.  But  little  Ellie  was  not  satisfied  with  them  at 
all.  She  liked  much  better  to  play  with  live  children, 
or  even  with  dolls,  which  she  could  pretend  were  alive; 


and  at  last  she  said  honestly,  "I  don't  care  about  all 
these  things,  because  they  can't  play  with  me,  or  talk 
to  me.  If  there  were  little  children  now  in  the  water, 
as  there  used  to  be,  and  I  could  see  them,  I  should  like 
that." 

[171] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Children  in  the  water,  you  strange  little  duck?" 
said  the  professor. 

"Yes,"  said  Ellie.  "I  know  there  used  to  be 
children  in  the  water,  and  mermaids  too,  and  mermen. 
I  saw  them  all  in  a  picture  at  home,  of  a  beautiful 
lady  sailing  in  a  car  drawn  by  dolphins,  and  babies 
flying  round  her,  and  one  sitting  in  her  lap;  and  the 
mermaids  swimming  and  playing,  and  the  mermen 
trumpeting  on  conch  -  shells;  and  it  is  called  'The 
Triumph  of  Galatea;'  and  there  is  a  burning  mountain 
in  the  picture  behind.  It  hangs  on  the  great  staircase, 
and  I  have  looked  at  it  ever  since  I  was  a  baby,  and 
dreamt  about  it  a  hundred  times;  and  it  is  so  beautiful 
that  it  must  be  true." 

But  the  professor  had  not  the  least  notion  of 
allowing  that  things  were  true,  merely  because  people 
thought  them  beautiful. 

Now  little  Ellie  was,  I  suppose,  a  stupid  little  girl; 
for  she  only  asked  the  same  question  over  again. 

"But  why  are  there  not  water-babies?" 

I  trust  and  hope  that  it  was  because  the  professor 
trod  at  that  moment  on  the  edge  of  a  very  sharp 
mussel,  and  hurt  one  of  his  corns  sadly,  that  he  answered 

[172] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

quite  sharply,  forgetting  that  he  was  a  scientific  man, 
and  therefore  ought  to  have  known  that  he  couldn't 
know;  and  that  he  was  a  logician,  and  therefore  ought 
to  have  known  that  he  could  not  prove  a  universal 
negative — I  say,  I  trust  and  hope  it  was  because  the 


mussel  hurt  his  corn,  that  the  professor  answered  quite 
sharply: 

"Because  there  ain't." 

Which  was  not  even  good  English,  my  dear  little 
boy;  for,  as  you  must  know,  the  professor  ought  to 
have  said,  if  he  was  so  angry  as  to  say  anything  of  the 

[173] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

kind — Because  there  are  not:  or  are  none:  or  are  none 
of  them;  or  because  they  do  not  exist. 

And  he  groped  with  his  net  under  the  weeds  so 
violently,  that,  as  it  befell,  he  caught  poor  little  Tom. 

He  felt  the  net  very  heavy;  and  lifted  it  out  quickly, 
with  Tom  all  entangled  in  the  meshes. 

"Dear  me!"  he  cried.  "What  a  large  pink  Holo- 
thurian;  with  hands,  too!  It  must  be  connected  with 
Synapta." 

And  he  took  him  out. 

"It  has  actually  eyes!"  he  cried.  "Why,  it  must 
be  a  Cephalopod '     This  is  most  extraordinary !' ' 

'No,  I  ain't!"  cried  Tom,  as  loud  as  he  could; 
for  he  did  not  like  to  be  called  bad  names. 

"It  is  a  water-baby!"  cried  Ellie;  and  of  course 
it  was. 

"Water-fiddlesticks,  my  dear!"  said  the  professor; 
and  he  turned  away  sharply. 

There  was  no  denying  it.  It  was  a  water-baby: 
and  he  had  said  a  moment  ago  that  there  were  none. 
What  was  he  to  do? 

He  would  have  liked,  of  course,  to  have  taken 
Tom  home  in  a  bucket.     He  would  not  have  put  him 

[i74l 


He  felt  the  net  very  heavy  ;  and  lifted  it  out 

quickly,  with  Tom  all  entangled  in  ike 

meshes 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

in  spirits.  Of  course  not.  He  would  have  kept  him 
alive,  and  petted  him  (for  he  was  a  very  kind  old 
gentleman),  and  written  a  book  about  him,  and  given 
him  two  long  names,  of  which  the  first  would  have 
said  a  little  about  Tom,  and  the  second  all  about 
himself. 

There  was  a  wise  old  heathen  once,  who  said, 
"Maxima  debetur  pueris  reverentia" — The  greatest 
reverence  is  due  to  children;  that  is,  that  grown  people 
should  never  say  or  do  anything  wrong  before  children, 
lest  they  should  set  them  a  bad  example. — But  some 
people,  and  I  am  afraid  the  professor  was  one  of  them, 
interpret  that  in  a  strange,  curious,  one-sided,  left- 
handed,  topsy-turvy,  inside-out,  behind-before  fashion; 
for  they  make  it  mean,  that  you  must  show  your 
respect  for  children,  by  never  confessing  yourself  in 
the  wrong  to  them,  even  if  you  know  that  you  are  so, 
lest  they  should  lose  confidence  in  their  elders. 

Now,  if  the  professor  had  said  to  Ellie,  "Yes,  my 
darling,  it  is  a  water-baby,  and  a  very  wonderful  thing 
it  is;  and  it  shows  how  little  I  know  of  the  wonders 
of  nature,  in  spite  of  forty  years'  honest  labour.  I 
was  just  telling  you  that  there  could  be  no  such  crea- 

[175] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


tures;  and,  behold!  here  is  one  come  to  confound  my 
conceit  and  show  me  that  Nature  can  do,  and  has 
done,  beyond  all  that  man's  poor  fancy  can  imagine. 
So,  let  us  thank  the  Maker,  and  Inspirer,  and  Lord 
of  Nature  for  all  His  wonderful  and  glorious  works, 
and  try  and  find  out  something  about  this  one;" — 
I  think  that,  if  the  professor  had  said  that,  little  Ellie 
would  have  believed  him  more  firmly,  and  respected 
him  more  deeply,  and  loved  him  better,  than  ever  she 
had  done  before.  But  he  was  of  a  different  opinion. 
He  hesitated  a  moment.  He  longed  to  keep  Tom, 
and  yet  he  half  wished  he  never  had  caught  him;  and 
at  last  he  quite  longed  to  get  rid  of  him.  So  he  turned 
away  and  poked  Tom  with  his  finger,  for  want  of 
anything  better  to  do;  and  said  carelessly,  "My  dear 


little     maid,     you 
water  -  babies    last 
full  of  them." 
in  the  most  horri- 
fright    all 
and      had 
quiet      as 
though      he 


must  have  dreamt  of 
night,  your  head  is  so 
Now  Tom  had  been 
ble    and    unspeakable 
the    while; 
kept     as 
he    could, 
was  called  a 


[176] 


I 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


Holothurian  and   a  Cephalopod;   for 

it  was  fixed  in  his  little  head  that  if 

a  man  with   clothes  on  caught  him, 

he  might  put  clothes  on  him  too,  and 

make  a  dirty  black  chimney-sweep  of 

him  again.     But,  when  the  professor 

poked  him,  it  was  more  than  he 

could  bear;    and,    between   fright 

and  rage,  he  turned  to  bay 

as  valiantly  as  a  mouse  in 

a  corner,  and  bit  the  professor's  finger  till  it  bled. 

"Oh!  ah!  yah!"  cried  he;  and  glad  of  an  excuse 
to  be  rid  of  Tom,  dropped  him  on  to  the  seaweed,  and 
thence  he  dived  into  the  water  and  was  gone  in  a 
moment. 

"But  it  was  a  water-baby,  and  I  heard  it  speak!" 
cried  Ellie.  "Ah,  it  is  gone!"  And  she  jumped  down 
off  the  rock  to  try  and  catch  Tom  before  he  slipped 
into  the  sea. 

Too  late!  and  what  was  worse,  as  she  sprang  down, 
she  slipped,  and  fell  some  six  feet  with  her  head  on  a 
sharp  rock,  and  lay  quite  still. 

The  professor  picked  her  up,  and  tried  to  waken 

[i77] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

her,  and  called  to  her,  and  cried  over  her,  for  he  loved 
her  very  much:  but  she  would  not  waken  at  all.  So 
he  took  her  up  in  his  arms  and  carried  her  to  her 
governess,  and  they  all  went  home;  and  little  Ellie 
was  put  to  bed,  and  lay  there  quite  still;  only  now 
and  then  she  woke  up  and  called  out  about  the  water- 
baby:  but  no  one  knew  what  she  meant,  and  the 
professor  did  not  tell,  for  he  was  ashamed  to  tell. 

And,  after  a  week,  one  moonlight  night,  the  fairies 
came  flying  in  at  the  window  and  brought  her  such  a 
pretty  pair  of  wings  that  she  could  not  help  putting 
them  on;  and  she  flew  with  them  out  of  the  window, 
and  over  the  land,  and  over  the  sea,  and  up  through 
the  clouds,  and  nobody  heard  or  saw  anything  of  her 
for  a  very  long  while. 


[178] 


sch>p~S8^3?> 


CHAPTER   V 


BUT  what  became  of  little  Tom? 
He  slipped  away  off  the  rocks  into 
the  water,  as  I  said  before.  But  he 
could  not  help  thinking  of  little  Ellie. 
He  did  not  remember  who  she  was;  but  he  knew 
that  she  was  a  little  girl,  though  she  was  a  hun- 
dred times  as  big  as  he.  That  is  not  surprising: 
size  has  nothing  to  do  with  kindred.  A  tiny  weed 
may  be  first  cousin  to  a  great  tree;  and  a  little  dog 
like  Vick  knows  that  Lioness  is  a  dog  too,  though  she 
is  twenty  times  larger  than  herself.  So  Tom  knew 
that  Ellie  was  a  little  girl,  and  thought  about  her 

[181] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

all  that  day,  and  longed  to  have  had  her  to  play  with; 
but  he  had  very  soon  to  think  of  something  else. 
And  here  is  the  account  of  what  happened  to  him, 
as  it  was  published  next  morning  in  the  Waterproof 
Gazette,  on  the  finest  watered  paper,  for  the  use  of 
the  great  fairy,  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid,  who  reads 
the  news  very  carefully  every  morning,  and  especially 
the  police  cases,  as  you  will  hear  very  soon. 

He  was  going  along  the  rocks  in  three-fathom 
water,  watching  the  pollock  catch  prawns,  and  the 
wrasses  nibble  barnacles  off  the  rocks,  shells  and  all, 
when  he  saw  a  round  cage  of  green  withes;  and  inside 
it,  looking  very  much  ashamed  of  himself,  sat  his 
friend  the  lobster,  twiddling  his  horns,  instead  of 
thumbs. 

"What,  have  you  been  naughty,  and  have  they 
put  you  in  the  lock-up?"  asked  Tom. 

The  lobster  felt  a  little  indignant  at  such  a  notion, 
but  he  was  too  much  depressed  in  spirits  to  argue;  so 
he  only  said,  "I  can't  get  out." 

"Why  did  you  get  in?" 

"After  that  nasty  piece  of  dead  fish."  He  had 
thought  it  looked  and  smelt  very  nice  when  he  was 

[182] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


outside,  and  so  it  did,  for  a  lobster: 
but  now  he  turned  round  and  abused 
it  because  he  was  angry  with  himself. 

"Where  did  you  get  in?" 

"Through  that  round  hole  at 
the  top." 

"Then  why  don't  you  get  out 
through  it?" 

"Because  I  can't:"  and  the 
lobster  twiddled  his  horns  more 
fiercely  than  ever,  but  he  was  forced 
to  confess. 

"I  have  jumped  upwards,  down- 
wards, backwards,  and  sideways,  at 
least  four  thousand  times;  and  I 
can't  get  out:  I  always  get  up  un- 
derneath there,  and  can't  find  the 
hole." 

Tom  looked  at  the  trap,  and 
having  more  wit  than  the  lobster, 
he  saw  plainly  enough  what  was 
the  matter;  as  you  may  if  you  will 
look  at  a  lobster-pot. 

[183] 


J- 


A 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Stop  a  bit,"  said  Torn. 
"Turn  your  tail  up  to  me, 
pull  you  through  hind-foremost, 
and  then  you  won't  stick  in  the  spikes." 
But  the  lobster  was  so  stupid  and  clumsy 
lat  he  couldn't  hit  the  hole. 
Tom  reached  and  clawed  down  the  hole  after 
lim,  till  he  caught  hold  of  him;  and  then, 
as  was  to  be  expected,  the  clumsy  lobster  pulled  him 
in  head  foremost. 

"Hullo!  here  is  a  pretty  business,"  said  Tom. 
"Now  take  your  great  claws,  and  break  the  points 
off  those  spikes,  and  then  we  shall  both  get  out 
easily." 

"Dear  me,  I  never  thought  of  that,"  said  the 
lobster;  "and  after  all  the  experience  of  life  that  I 
have  had!" 

You  see,  experience  is  of  very  little  good  unless  a 
man,  or  a  lobster,  has  wit  enough  to  make  use  of  it. 
For  a  good  many  people,  like  old  Polonius,  have  seen 
all  the  world,  and  yet  remain  little  better  than  children 
after  all. 

But  they  had  not  got  half  the  spikes  away  when 

[184] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


they  saw  a  great  dark  cloud  over  them:    and  lo,  and 
behold,  it  was  the  otter. 

How  she  did  grin  and  grin  when  she  saw  Tom. 
"Yar!"  said  she,  "you  little  meddlesome  wretch,  I 
have  you  now!  I  will  serve  you  out  for  telling  the 
salmon  where  I  was!"  And  she  crawled  all  over  the 
pot  to  get  in. 

Tom  was  horribly  frightened,  and  still  more  fright- 
ened when  she  found  the  hole  in  the  top,  and  squeezed 
herself  right  down  through  it,  all  eyes  and  teeth.  But 
no  sooner  was  her  head  inside  than  valiant  Mr.  Lobster 
caught  her  by  the  nose  and  held  on. 

And  there  they  were  all  three  in  the  pot, 
rolling  over  and  over,  and  very  tight  packing 
it   was.      And   the  lobster  tore  at  the  otter, 
and   the  otter  tore  at  the  lobster,  and 
squeezed  and  thumped  poor  Tom  till 
no   breath    left   in   his   body;    and    I 
don't  know  what  would  have  hap- 
pened to  him  if  he  had  not  at 
last  got  on  the  otter's 
back,  and   safe  out  of 
the  hole. 

[185] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

He  was  right  glad  when  he  got  out:  but  he  would 
not  desert  his  friend  who  had  saved  him;  and  the 
first  time  he  saw  his  tail  uppermost  he  caught  hold  of 
it,  and  pulled  with  all  his  might. 

But  the  lobster  would  not  let  go. 

"Come  along,"  said  Tom;  "don't  you  see  she  is 
dead?"     And  so  she  was,  quite  drowned  and  dead. 

And  that  was  the  end  of  the  wicked  otter. 

But  the  lobster  would  not  let  go. 

"Come  along,  you  stupid  old  stick-in-the-mud," 
cried  Tom,  "or  the  fisherman  will  catch  you!"  And 
that  was  true,  for  Tom  felt  some  one  above  beginning 
to  haul  up  the  pot. 

But  the  lobster  would  not  let  go. 

Tom  saw  the  fisherman  haul  him  up  to  the  boat- 
side,  and  thought  it  was  all  up  with  him.  But  when 
Mr.  Lobster  saw  the  fisherman,  he  gave  such  a  furious 
and  tremendous  snap,  that  he  snapped  out  of  his  hand, 
and  out  of  the  pot,  and  safe  into  the  sea.  But  he  left 
his  knobbed  claw  behind  him;  for  it  never  came  into 
his  stupid  head  to  let  go  after  all,  so  he  just  shook  his 
claw  off  as  the  easier  method. 

Tom  asked  the  lobster  why  he  never  thought  of 

[186] 


Tom  reached  and  clawed  down  the  hole  after 
him 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

letting  go.  He  said  very  determinedly  that  it  was  a 
point  of  honour  among  lobsters.  And  so  it  is,  as  the 
Mayor  of  Plymouth  found  out  once  to  his  cost — eight 
or  nine  hundred  years  ago,  of  course;  for  if  it  had 
happened  lately  it  would  be  personal  to  mention  it. 

For  one  day  he  was  so  tired  with  sitting  on  a  hard 
chair,  in  a  grand  furred  gown,  with  a  gold  chain  round 
his  neck,  hearing  one  policeman  after  another  come  in 
and  sing,  "What  shall  we  do  with  the  drunken  sailor, 
so  early  in  the  morning?"  and  answering  them  each 
exactly  alike: 

"Put  him  in  the  round  house  till  he  gets  sober,  so 
early  in  the  morning" — 

That,  when  it  was  over,  he  jumped  up,  and  played 
leap-frog  with  the  town-clerk  till  he  burst  his  buttons, 
and  then  had  his  luncheon,  and  burst  some  more 
buttons,  and  then  said:  "It  is  a  low  spring-tide;  I 
shall  go  out  this  afternoon  and  cut  my  capers." 

Now  he  did  not  mean  to  cut  such  capers  as  you 
eat  with  boiled  mutton.  It  was  the  commandant  of 
artillery  at  Valetta  who  used  to  amuse  himself  with 
cutting  them,  and  who  stuck  upon  one  of  the  bastions 
a  notice,  "No  one  allowed  to  cut  capers  here  but  me," 

[187] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

which  greatly  edified  the  midshipmen  in  port,  and  the 
Maltese  on  the  Nix  Mangiare  stairs.  But  all  that  the 
mayor  meant  was  that  he  would  go  and  have  an  after- 
noon's fun,  like  any  schoolboy,  and  catch  lobsters  with 
an  iron  hook. 

So  to  the  Mewstone  he  went,  and  for  lobsters  he 
looked.     And  when  he  came  to  a  certain  crack  in  the 


rocks  he  was  so  excited  that,  instead  of  putting  in  his 
hook,  he  put  in  his  hand;  and  Mr.  Lobster  was  at 
home,  and  caught  him  by  the  finger,  and  held  on. 

"Yah!"  said  the  mayor,  and  pulled  as  hard  as  he 
dared:  but  the  more  he  pulled,  the  more  the  lobster 
pinched,  till  he  was  forced  to  be  quiet. 

Then  he  tried  to  get  his  hook  in  with  his  other 
hand;  but  the  hole  was  too  narrow. 

[188] 


THE  WATER-BABIES 

Then  he  pulled  again;  but  he  could  not  stand  the 
pain. 

Then  he  shouted  and  bawled  for  help:  but  there 
was  no  one  nearer  him  than  the  men-of-war  inside  the 
breakwater. 

Then  he  began  to  turn  a  little  pale;  for  the  tide 
flowed,  and  still  the  lobster  held  on. 


Then  he  turned  quite  white;  for  the  tide  was  up 
to  his  knees,  and  still  the  lobster  held  on. 

Then  he  thought  of  cutting  off  his  finger;  but  he 
wanted  two  things  to  do  it  with — courage  and  a  knife; 
and  he  had  got  neither. 

Then  he  turned  quite  yellow;  for  the  tide  was  up 
to  his  waist,  and  still  the  lobster  held  on. 

[189] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

Then  he  thought  over  all  the  naughty  things  he 
ever  had  done;  all  the  sand  which  he  had  put  in  the 
sugar,  and  the  sloe-leaves  in  the  tea,  and  the  water  in 
the  treacle,  and  the  salt  in  the  tobacco  (because  his 
brother  was  a  brewer,  and  a  man  must  help  his  own 
kin). 

Then  he  turned  quite  blue;  for  the  tide  was  up  to 
his  breast,  and  still  the  lobster  held  on. 

Then,  I  have  no  doubt,  he  repented  fully  of  all  the 
said  naughty  things  which  he  had  done,  and  promised 
to  mend  his  life,  as  too  many  do  when  they  think  they 
have  no  life  left  to  mend.  Whereby,  as  they  fancy, 
they  make  a  very  cheap  bargain.  But  the  old  fairy 
with  the  birch  rod  soon  undeceives  them. 

And  then  he  grew  all  colours  at  once,  and  turned 
up  his  eyes  like  a  duck  in  thunder;  for  the  water  was 
up  to  his  chin,  and  still  the  lobster  held  on. 

And  then  came  a  man-of-war's  boat  round  the 
Mewstone,  and  saw  his  head  sticking  up  out  of  the 
water.  One  said  it  was  a  keg  of  brandy,  and  another 
that  it  was  a  cocoa-nut,  and  another  that  it  was  a  buoy 
loose,  and  another  that  it  was  a  black  diver,  and 
wanted  to  fire  at  it,  which  would  not  have  been  pleasant 

[190] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

for  the  mayor:  but  just  then  such  a  yell  came  out  of 
a  great  hole  in  the  middle  of  it  that  the  midshipman 
in  charge  guessed  what  it  was,  and  bade  pull  up  to  it  as 
fast  as  they  could.  So  somehow  or  other  the  Jack- 
tars  got  the  lobster  out,  and  set  the  mayor  free,  and 
put  him  ashore  at  the  Barbican.  He  never  went  lobster- 
catching  again;  and  we  will  hope  he  put  no  more  salt 
in  the  tobacco,  not  even  to  sell  his  brother's  beer. 

And  that  is  the  story  of  the  Mayor  of  Plymouth, 
which  has  two  advantages— first,  that  of  being  quite 
true;  and  second,  that  of  having  (as  folks  say  all  good 
stories  ought  to  have)  no  moral  whatsoever:  no  more, 
indeed,  has  any  part  of  this  book,  because  it  is  a  fairy 
tale,  you  know. 

And  now  happened  to  Tom  a  most  wonderful 
thing;  for  he  had  not  left  the  lobster  five  minutes 
before  he  came  upon  a  water-baby. 

A  real  live  water-baby,  sitting  on  the  white  sand, 
very  busy  about  a  little  point  of  rock.  And  when  it 
saw  Tom  it  looked  up  for  a  moment,  and  then  cried, 
"Why,  you  are  not  one  of  us.  You  are  a  new  baby! 
Oh,  how  delightful!" 

And  it  ran  to  Tom,  and  Tom  ran  to  it,  and  they 

[191] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

hugged  and  kissed  each  other  for  ever  so  long,  they 
did  not  know  why.  But  they  did  not  want  any  intro- 
ductions there  under  the  water. 

At  last  Tom  said,  "Oh,  where  have  you  been  all 
this  while?  I  have  been  looking  for  you  so  long,  and 
I  have  been  so  lonely." 

"We  have  been  here  for  days  and  days.  There 
are  hundreds  of  us  about  the  rocks.  How  was  it  you 
did  not  see  us,  or  hear  us  when  we  sing  and  romp 
every  evening  before  we  go  home?" 

Tom  looked  at  the  baby  again,  and  then  he  said: 

"Well,  this  is  wonderful!  I  have  seen  things  just 
like  you  again  and  again,  but  I  thought  you  were 
shells,  or  sea-creatures.  I  never  took  you  for  water- 
babies  like  myself." 

Now,  was  not  that  very  odd?  So  odd,  indeed, 
that  you  will,  no  doubt,  want  to  know  how  it  hap- 
pened, and  why  Tom  could  never  find  a  water-baby 
till  after  he  had  got  the  lobster  out  of  the  pot.     And, 


192] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


if  you  will  read  this  story  nine  times  over,  and  then 
think  for  yourself,  you  will  find  out  why.  It  is  not 
good  for  little  boys  to  be  told  everything,  and  never  to 
be  forced  to  use  their  own  wits. 

"Now,"  said  the  baby,  "come  and  help  me,  or  I 
shall  not  have  finished  before  my  brothers  and  sisters 
come,  and  it  is  time  to  go  home." 

"What  shall  I  help  you  at?" 

"At  this  poor  dear  little  rock;  a  great  clumsy 
boulder  came  rolling  by  in  the  last  storm,  and  knocked 
all  its  head  off,  and  rubbed  off  all  its  flowers.  And 
now  I  must  plant  it  again  with  seaweeds,  and  coralline, 
and  anemones,  and  I  will  make  it  the  prettiest  little 
rock-garden  on  all  the  shore." 

So  they  worked  away  at  the  rock,  and  planted  it, 
and  smoothed  the  sand  down  round  it,  and  capital 
fun  they  had  till  the  tide  began  to  turn.     And  then 

[193] 


; 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Tom  heard  all  the  other  babies  coming,  laughing  and 
singing  and  shouting  and  romping;  and  the  noise  they 
made  was  just  like  the  noise  of  the  ripple.  So  he  knew 
that  he  had  been  hearing  and  seeing  the  water-babies 
all  along;  only  he  did  not  know  them,  because  his 
eyes  and  ears  were  not  opened. 

And  in  they  came,  dozens  and  dozens  of  them, 
some  bigger  than  Tom  and  some  smaller,  all  in  the 
neatest  little  white  bathing  dresses;  and  when  they 
found  that  he  was  a  new  baby,  they  hugged  him  and 
kissed  him,  and  then  put  him  in  the  middle  and  danced 
round  him  on  the  sand,  and  there  was  no  one  ever  so 
happy  as  poor  little  Tom. 

"Now  then,"  they  cried  all  at  once,  "we  must  come 
away  home,  we  must  come  away  home,  or  the  tide  will 
leave  us  dry.  We  have  mended  all  the  broken  sea- 
weed, and  put  all  the  rock-pools  in  order,  and  planted 
all  the  shells  again  in  the  sand,  and  nobody  will  see 
where  the  ugly  storm  swept  in  last  week. ' ' 

And  this  is  the  reason  why  the  rock-pools  are 
always  so  neat  and  clean;  because  the  water-babies 
come  inshore  after  every  storm  to  sweep  them  out,  and 
comb  them  down,  and  put  them  all  to  rights  again. 

[i94] 


They  hugged  and  kissed  each  other  for  ever 
so  long,  they  did  not  know  why 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Only  where  men  are  wasteful  and  dirty,  and  let 
sewers  run  into  the  sea  instead  of  putting  the  stuff 
upon  the  fields  like  thrifty  reasonable  souls;  or  throw 
herrings'  heads  and  dead  dog-fish,  or  any  other  refuse, 
into  the  water;  or  in  any  way  make  a  mess  upon  the 
clean  shore — there  the  water-babies  will  not  come, 
sometimes  not  for  hundreds  of  years  (for  they  cannot 
abide  anything  smelly  or  foul),  but  leave  the  sea- 
anemones  and  the  crabs  to  clear  away  everything,  till 
the  good  tidy  sea  has  covered  up  all  the  dirt  in  soft 
mud  and  clean  sand,  where  the  water-babies  can  plant 
live  cockles  and  whelks  and  razor-shells  and  sea-cucum- 
bers and  golden-combs,  and  make  a  pretty  live  garden 
again,  after  man's  dirt  is  cleared  away.  And  that,  I 
suppose,  is  the  reason  why  there  are  no  water-babies 
at  any  watering-place  which  I  have  ever  seen. 

And  where  is  the  home  of  the  water-babies?  In 
St.  Brandan's  fairy  isle. 

Did  you  never  hear  of  the  blessed  St.  Brandan, 
how  he  preached  to  the  wild  Irish  on  the  wild,  wild 
Kerry  coast,  he  and  five  other  hermits,  till  they  were 
weary  and  longed  to  rest?  For  the  wild  Irish  would 
not  listen  to  them,  or  come  to  confession  and  to  mass, 

[  195  ] 


THE   WATER- BABIES 


but  liked  better  to  brew 
potheen,  and  dance  the  pater 
o'pee,  and  knock  each  other 
over  the  head  with  shille- 
laghs, and  shoot  each  other 
from  behind  turf-dykes,  and 
steal  each  other's  cattle,  and 
burn  each  other's  homes;  till 
St.  Brandan  and  his  friends 
were  weary  of  them,  for  they 
would  not  learn  to  be  peace- 
able Christians  at  all. 

So  St.  Brandan  went  out 
to  the  point  of  Old  Dunmore, 
and  looked  over  the  tide-way 
roaring  round  the  Blasquets, 
at  the  end  of  all  the  world, 
and  away  into  the  ocean, 
and  sighed— "Ah  that  I  had 
wings  as  a  dove!"  And  far 
away,  before  the  setting  sun, 
he  saw  a  blue  fairy  sea,  and 
golden  fairy  islands,  and  he 
[196] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

said,  "Those  are  the  islands  of  the  blest."  Then  he 
and  his  friends  got  into  a  hooker,  and  sailed  away  and 
away  to  the  westward,  and  were  never  heard  of  more. 
But  the  people  who  would  not  hear  him  were  changed 
into  gorillas,  and  gorillas  they  are  until  this  day. 

And  when  St.  Brandan  and  the  hermits  came  to 
that  fairy  isle  they  found  it  overgrown  with  cedars  and 
full  of  beautiful  birds;  and  he  sat  down  under  the 
cedars  and  preached  to  all  the  birds  in  the  air.  And 
they  liked  his  sermons  so  well  that  they  told  the  fishes 
in  the  sea;  and  they  came,  and  St.  Brandan  preached 
to  them;  and  the  fishes  told  the  water-babies,  who  live 
in  the  caves  under  the  isle;  and  they  came  up  by 
hundreds  every  Sunday,  and  St.  Brandan  got  quite  a 
neat  little  Sunday-school.  And  there  he  taught  the 
water-babies  for  a  great  many  hundred  years,  till  his 
eyes  grew  too  dim  to  see,  and  his  beard  grew  so  long 
that  he  dared  not  walk  for  fear  of  treading  on  it,  and 
then  he  might  have  tumbled  down.  And  at  last  he 
and  the  five  hermits  fell  fast  asleep  under  the  cedar- 
shades,  and  there  they  sleep  unto  this  day.  But  the 
fairies  took  to  the  water-babies,  and  taught  them  their 
lessons  themselves. 

[i97] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

And  some  say  that  St.  Brandan  will  awake  and 
begin  to  teach  the  babies  once  more:  but  some  think 
that  he  will  sleep  on,  for  better  for  worse,  till  the  com- 
ing of  the  Cocqcigrues.  But,  on  still  clear  summer 
evenings,  when  the  sun  sinks  down  into  the  sea,  among 
golden  cloud-capes  and  cloud-islands,  and  locks  and 
friths  of  azure  sky,  the  sailors  fancy  that  they  see,  away 
to  westward,  St.  Brandan's  fairy  isle. 

But  whether  men  can  see  it  or  not,  St.  Brandan's 
Isle  once  actually  stood  there;  a  great  land  out  in  the 
ocean,  which  has  sunk  and  sunk  beneath  the  waves. 
Old  Plato  called  it  Atlantis,  and  told  strange  tales  of 
the  wise  men  who  lived  therein,  and  of  the  wars  they 
fought  in  the  old  times.  And  from  off  that  island 
came  strange  flowers,  which  linger  still  about  this 
land: — the  Cornish  heath,  and  Cornish  moneywort, 
and  the  delicate  Venus's  hair,  and  the  London-pride 
which  covers  the  Kerry  mountains,  and  the  little  pink 
butterwort  of  Devon,  and  the  great  blue  butterwort  of 
Ireland,  and  the  Connemara  heath,  and  the  bristle-fern 
of  the  Turk  waterfall,  and  many  a  strange  plant  more; 
all  fairy  tokens  left  for  wise  men  and  good  children 
from  off  St.  Brandan's  Isle. 

[198] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Now  when  Tom  got  there,  he  found  that  the  isle 
stood  all  on  pillars,  and  that  its  roots  were  full  of  caves. 
There  were  pillars  of  black  basalt,  like  Staffa;  and 
pillars  of  green  and  crimson  serpentine,  like  Kynance; 
and  pillars  ribboned  with  red  and  white  and  yellow 
sandstone,  like  Livermead;  and  there  were  blue  grottoes 
like  Capri,  and  white  grottoes  like  Adelsberg;  all 
curtained  and  draped  with  seaweeds,  purple  and  crim- 
son, green  and  brown;  and  strewn  with  soft  white 
sand,  on  which  the  water-babies  sleep  every  night. 
But,  to  keep  the  place  clean  and  sweet,  the  crabs  picked 
up  all  the  scraps  off  the  floor  and  ate  them  like  so 
many  monkeys;  while  the  rocks  were  covered  with 
ten  thousand  sea-anemones,  and  corals  and  madre- 
pores, who  scavenged  the  water  all  day  long,  and  kept 
it  nice  and  pure.  But,  to  make  up  to  them  for  having 
to  do  such  nasty  work,  they  were  not  left  black  and 
dirty,  as  poor  chimney-sweeps  and  dustmen  are.  No; 
the  fairies  are  more  considerate  and  just  than  that,  and 
have  dressed  them  all  in  the  most  beautiful  colours  and 
patterns,  till  they  look  like  vast  flower-beds  of  gay 
blossoms.  If  you  think  I  am  talking  nonsense,  I  can 
only  say  that  it  is  true;    and  that  an  old  gentleman 

[199] 


Sat 


3 


HE   WATER-BABIES 

named  Fourier  used  to 
say  that  we  ought  to  do 
the  same  by  chimney- 
sweeps and  dustmen,  and 
honour  them  instead  of 
despising  them;  and  he 
was  a  very  clever  old  gen- 
tleman: but,  unfortunately 
for  him  and  the  world,  as 
mad  as  a  March  hare. 
And,  instead  of  watchmen  and  policemen  to  keep 
out  nasty  things  at  night,  there  were  thousands  and 
thousands  of  water-snakes,  and  most  wonderful  crea- 
tures they  were.  They  were  all  named  after  the  Nereids, 
the  sea-fairies  who  took  care  of  them,  Eunice  and 
Polynoe,  Phyllodoce  and  Psamathe,  and  all  the  rest  of 
the  pretty  darlings  who  swim  round  their  Queen  Amphi- 
trite,  and  her  car  of  cameo  shell.  They  were  dressed 
in  green  velvet,  and  black 
velvet,    and    purple    velvet; 


and  were  all  jointed  in 
rings;  and  some  of  them 
had    three    hundred    brains 

[200; 


.^-x 


<^a 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


apiece,  so  that  they  must  have  been  uncommonly 
shrewd  detectives;  and  some  had  eyes  in  their  tails; 
and  some  had  eyes  in  every  joint,  so  that  they  kept 
a  very  sharp  look-out;  and  when  they  wanted  a 
baby-snake,  they  just  grew  one  at  the  end  of  their 
own  tails,  and  when  it  was  able  to  take  care  of  itself 
it  dropped  off;  so  that  they  brought  up  their  fami- 
lies very  cheaply.  But  if  any  nasty  thing  came  by, 
out  they  rushed  upon  it;  and  then  out  of  each  of 
their  hundreds  of  feet  there  sprang  a  whole  cutler's 
shop  of 


Scythes, 

Billhooks, 

Pickaxes, 

Forks, 

Penknives, 

Rapiers, 

Sabres, 

Yataghans, 

Creeses, 

Ghoorka  swords, 

Tucks, 


Javelins, 

Lances, 

Halberts, 

Gisarines, 

Poleaxes, 

Fishhooks, 

Bradawls, 

Gimlets, 

Corkscrews, 

Pins, 

Needles, 


And  so  forth 

[201] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

which  stabbed,  shot,  poked,  pricked,  scratched,  ripped, 
pinked,  and  crimped  those  naughty  beasts  so  terribly 
that  they  had  to  run  for  their  lives,  or  else  be  chopped 
into  small  pieces  and  be  eaten  afterwards.  And,  if 
that  is  not  all,  every  word,  true,  then  there  is  no  faith 
in  microscopes,  and  all  is  over  with  the  Linnaean 
Society. 

And  there  were  the  water-babies  in  thousands, 
more  than  Tom,  or  you  either,  could  count. — All  the 
little  children  whom  the  good  fairies  take  to,  because 
their  cruel  mothers  and  fathers  will  not;  all  who  are 
untaught  and  brought  up  heathens,  and  all  who  come 
to  grief  by  ill-usage  or  ignorance  or  neglect;  all  the 
little  children  who  are  overlaid,  or  given  gin  when 
they  are  young,  or  are  let  to  drink  out  of  hot  kettles, 
or  to  fall  into  the  fire;  all  the  little  children  in  alleys 
and  courts,  and  tumble-down  cottages,  who  die  by 
fever,  and  cholera,  and  measles,  and  scarlatina,  and 
nasty  complaints  which  no  one  has  any  business  to 
have,  and  which  no  one  will  have  some  day,  when  folks 
have  common  sense;  and  all  the  little  children  who 
have  been  killed  by  cruel  masters  and  wicked  soldiers; 
they  were  all  there,  except,   of  course,   the  babes  of 

[  202  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Bethlehem  who  were  killed  by  wicked  King  Herod; 
for  they  were  taken  straight  to  heaven  long  ago,  as 
everybody  knows,  and  we  call  them  the  Holy  Innocents. 
But  I  wish  Tom  had  given  up  all  his  naughty 
tricks,  and  left  off  tormenting  dumb  animals  now  that 
he  had  plenty  of  playfellows  to  amuse  him.  Instead 
of  that,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  he  would  meddle  with  the 


creatures,  all  but  the  water-snakes,  for  they  would 
stand  no  nonsense.  So  he  tickled  the  madrepores,  to 
make  them  shut  up;  and  frightened  the  crabs,  to  make 
them  hide  in  the  sand  and  peep  out  at  him  with  the 
tips  of  their  eyes;  and  put  stones  into  the  anemones' 
mouths,  to  make  them  fancy  that  their  dinner  was 
coming. 

[203] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

The  other  children  warned  him,  and  said,  "Take 
care  what  you  are  at.  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid  is 
coming."  But  Tom  never  heeded  them,  being  quite 
riotous  with  high  spirits  and  good  luck,  till,  one  Friday 
morning  early,  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid  came  indeed. 

A  very  tremendous  lady  she  was;  and  when  the 
children  saw  her  they  all  stood  in  a  row,  very  upright 
indeed,  and  smoothed  down  their  bathing  dresses,  and 
put  their  hands  behind  them,  just  as  if  they  were  going 
to  be  examined  by  the  inspector. 

And  she  had  on  a  black  bonnet,  and  a  black  shawl, 
and  no  crinoline  at  all;  and  a  pair  of  large  green  spec- 
tacles, and  a  great  hooked  nose,  hooked  so  much  that 
the  bridge  of  it  stood  quite  up  above  her  eyebrows; 
and  under  her  arm  she  carried  a  great  birch-rod.  In- 
deed, she  was  so  ugly  that  Tom  was  tempted  to  make 
faces  at  her:  but  did  not;  for  he  did  not  admire  the 
look  of  the  birch-rod  under  her  arm. 

And  she  looked  at  the  children  one  by  one,  and 
seemed  very  much  pleased  with  them,  though  she 
never  asked  them  one  question  about  how  they  were 
behaving;  and  then  began  giving  them  all  sorts  of 
nice  sea-things — sea-cakes,  sea-apples,  sea-oranges,  sea- 

[204] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


bullseyes,  sea- toffee;  and  to 
the  very  best  of  all  she  gave 
sea-ices,  made  out  of  sea-cows' 
cream,  which  never  melt  under 
water. 

And,  if  you  don't  quite 
believe  me,  then  just  think — 
What  is  more  cheap  and 
plentiful  than  sea-rock?  Then 
why  should  there  not  be  sea- 
toffee  as  well?  And  every  one 
can    find    sea-lemons    (ready 

quartered  too)  if  they  will  look  for  them  at  low  tide; 
and  sea-grapes  too  sometimes,  hanging  in  bunches; 
and,  if  you  will  go  to  Nice,  you  will  find  the  fish- 
market   full    of   sea-fruit,  which  they  call  "frutta  di 

mare."  And,  perhaps,  that  is 
the  very  reason  why  the  place 
is  called  Nice,  because  there 
are  so  many  nice  things  in  the 
sea  there:  at  least,  if  it  is  not, 
it  ought  to  be. 

Now  little  Tom  watched 
[205] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

all  these  sweet  things  given  away,  till  his  mouth 
watered,  and  his  eyes  grew  as  round  as  an  owl's. 
For  he  hoped  that  his  turn  would  come  at  last;  and 
so  it  did.  For  the  lady  called  him  up,  and  held  out 
her  fingers  with  something  in  them,  and  popped  it 
into  his  mouth;  and,  lo  and  behold,  it  was  a  nasty 
cold  hard  pebble. 

"You  are  a  very  cruel  woman,"  said  he,  and  began 
to  whimper. 

"And  you  are  a  very  cruel  boy;  who  puts  pebbles 
into  the  sea-anemones'  mouths,  to  take  them  in,  and 
make  them  fancy  that  they  had  caught  a  good  dinner! 
As  you  did  to  them,  so  I  must  do  to  you." 

"Who  told  you  that?"  said  Tom. 

"You  did  yourself,  this  very  minute." 

Tom  had  never  opened  his  lips;  so  he  was  very 
much  taken  aback  indeed. 

"Yes;  every  one  tells  me  exactly  what  they  have 
done  wrong;  and  that  without  knowing  it  themselves. 
So  there  is  no  use  trying  to  hide  anything  from  me. 
Now  go,  and  be  a  good  boy,  and  I  will  put  no  more 
pebbles  in  your  mouth,  if  you  put  none  in  other 
creatures'." 

[206] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


"I  did   not  know   there  was 
any  harm  in  it,"  said  Tom. 

"Then  you  know  now.     Peo- 
ple continually  say  that   to    me: 
but  I  tell  them,  if  you  don't  know 
that  fire  burns,  that  is  no  reason 
that  it  should  not  burn  you;  and 
you  don't  know  that  dirt  breed 
fever,    that    is    no   reason  why 
the  fevers  should  not  kill  you. 
The  lobster  did  not  know  that 
there  was  any  harm  in  getting 
into   the  lobster-pot;    but  it 
caught  him  all  the  same." 

"Dear  me,"  thought 
Tom,  "she  knows  every- 
thing!" And  so  she  did, 
indeed. 

"And  so,  if  you  do  not 
know  that  things  are 
wrong,  that  is  no  reason 
why  you  should  not  be 
punished  for  them;  though 

[207] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


not  as  much,  not  as  much,  my  little  man"  (and  the 
lady  looked  very  kindly,  after  all),  "as  if  you  did  know." 

"Well,  you  are  a  little  hard  on  a  poor  lad,"  said 
Tom. 

"Not  at  all;  I  am  the  best  friend  you  ever  had  in 
all  your  life.  But  I  will  tell  you;  I  cannot  help  punish- 
ing people  when  they  do  wrong.  I  like  it  no  more 
than  they  do;  I  am  often  very,  very  sorry  for  them, 
poor  things:  but  I  cannot  help  it.  If  I  tried  not  to 
do  it,  I  should  do  it  all  the  same.  For  I  work  by 
machinery,  just  like  an  engine;  and  am  full  of  wheels 
and  springs  inside;  and  am  wound  up  very  carefully, 
so  that  I  cannot  help  going." 

"Was  it  long  ago  since  they  wound  you  up?" 

[208] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

asked  Tom.  For  he  thought,  the  cunning  little  fellow, 
"She  will  run  down  some  day:  or  they  may  forget  to 
wind  her  up,  as  old  Grimes  used  to  forget  to  wind  up 
his  watch  when  he  came  in  from  the  public-house; 
and  then  I  shall  be  safe." 

"I  was  wound  up  once  and  for  all,  so  long  ago,  that 
I  forget  all  about  it." 

"Dear  me,"  said  Tom,  "you  must  have  been  made 
a  long  time!" 

"I  never  was  made,  my  child;  and  I  shall  go  for 
ever  and  ever;  for  I  am  as  old  as  Eternity,  and  yet  as 
young  as  Time." 

And  there  came  over  the  lady's  face  a  very  curious 
expression — very  solemn,  and  very  sad;  and  yet  very, 
very  sweet.  And  she  looked  up  and  away,  as  if  she 
were  gazing  through  the  sea,  and  through  the  sky,  at 
something  far,  far  off;  and  as  she  did  so,  there  came 
such  a  quiet,  tender,  patient,  hopeful  smile  over  her 
face  that  Tom  thought  for  the  moment  that  she  did  not 
look  ugly  at  all.  And  no  more  she  did;  for  she  was 
like  a  great  many  people  who  have  not  a  pretty  feature 
in  their  faces,  and  yet  are  lovely  to  behold,  and  draw 
little  children's  hearts  to  them  at  once;  because  though 

[209] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

the  house  is  plain  enough,  yet  from  the  windows  a 
beautiful  and  good  spirit  is  looking  forth. 

And  Tom  smiled  in  her  face,  she  looked  so  pleasant 
for  the  moment.  And  the  strange  fairy  smiled  too, 
and  said: 

"Yes.  You  thought  me  very  ugly  just  now,  did 
you  not?" 

Tom  hung  down  his  head,  and  got  very  red  about 
the  ears. 

"And  I  am  very  ugly.  I  am  the  ugliest  fairy  in 
the  world;  and  I  shall  be,  till  people  behave  them- 
selves as  they  ought  to  do.  And  then  I  shall  grow  as 
handsome  as  my  sister,  who  is  the  loveliest  fairy  in  the 
world;  and  her  name  is  Mrs.  Doasyouwouldbedoneby. 
So  she  begins  where  I  end,  and  I  begin  where  she  ends; 
and  those  who  will  not  listen  to  her  must  listen  to  me, 
as  you  will  see.  Now,  all  of  you  run  away,  except 
Tom;  and  he  may  stay  and  see  what  I  am  going  to  do. 
It  will  be  a  very  good  warning  for  him  to  begin  with, 
before  he  goes  to  school. 

"Now,  Tom,  every  Friday  I  come  down  here  and 
call  up  all  who  have  ill-used  little  children  and  serve 
them  as  they  served  the  children." 

[210] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


And  at  that  Tom  was  frightened,  and  crept  under  a 
stone;  which  made  the  two  crabs  who  lived  there  very 
angry,  and  frightened  their  friend  the  butter-fish  into 
flapping  hysterics:  but  he  would  not  move  for  them. 

And  first  she  called  up  all  the  doctors  who  give 
little  children  so  much  physic  (they  wrere  most  of  them 
old  ones;  for  the  young  ones  have  learnt  better,  all 
but  a  few  army  surgeons,  who  still  fancy  that  a  baby's 
inside  is  much  like  a  Scotch  grenadier's),  and  she  set 
them  all  in  a  row;  and  very  rueful  they  looked;  for 
they  knew  what  was  coming. 

And  first  she  pulled  all  their  teeth  out;  and  then 
she  bled  them  all  round:  and  then  she  dosed  them 
with  calomel,  and  jalap,  and  salts  and  senna,  and  brim- 
stone and  treacle;   and  horrible  faces  they  made;   and 

[211] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

then  she  gave  them  a  great  emetic  of  mustard  and 
water,  and  no  basons;  and  began  all  over  again;  and 
that  was  the  way  she  spent  the  morning. 

And  then  she  called  up  a  whole  troop  of  foolish 
ladies,  who  pinch  up  their  children's  waists  and  toes; 
and  she  laced  them  all  up  in  tight  stays,  so  that  they 
were  choked  and  sick,  and  their  noses  grew  red,  and 
their  hands  and  feet  swelled;  and  then  she  crammed 
their  poor  feet  into  the  most  dreadfully  tight  boots,  and 
made  them  all  dance,  which  they  did  most  clumsily  in- 
deed; and  then  she  asked  them  how  they  liked  it;  and 
when  they  said  not  at  all,  she  let  them  go:  because  they 
had  only  done  it  out  of  foolish  fashion,  fancying  it  was 
for  their  children's  good,  as  if  wasps'  waists  and  pigs' 
toes  could  be  pretty,  or  wholesome,  or  of  any  use  to 
anybody. 

Then  she  called  up  all  the  careless  nurserymaids, 
and  stuck  pins  into  them  all  over,  and  wheeled  them 
about  in  perambulators  with  tight  straps  across  their 
stomachs  and  their  heads  and  arms  hanging  over  the 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

side,  till  they  were  quite  sick  and  stupid,  and  would 
have  had  sun-strokes:  but,  being  under  the  water, 
they  could  only  have  water-strokes;  which,  I  assure 
you,  are  nearly  as  bad,  as  you  will  find  if  you  try  to 
sit  under  a  mill-wheel.  And  mind — when  you  hear 
a  rumbling  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  sailors  will  tell 
you  that  it  is  a  ground-swell:  but  now  you  know 
better.  It  is  the  old  lady  wheeling  the  maids  about 
in  perambulators. 

And  by  that  time  she  was  so  tired,  she  had  to  go 
to  luncheon. 

And  after  luncheon  she  set  to  work  again,  and 
called  up  all  the  cruel  schoolmasters — whole  regiments 
and  brigades  of  them;  and  when  she  saw  them,  she 
frowned  most  terribly,  and  set  to  work  in  earnest,  as 
if  the  best  part  of  the  day's  work  was  to  come.  More 
than  half  of  them  were  nasty,  dirty,  frowzy,  grubby, 
smelly  old  monks,  who,  because  they  dare  not  hit  a 
man  of  their  own  size,  amused  themselves  with  beating 
little  children  instead;  as  you  may  see  in  the  picture 
of  old  Pope  Gregory  (good  man  and  true  though  he 
was,  when  he  meddled  with  things  which  he  did 
understand),  teaching  children  to  sing  their  fa-fa-mi- 

[213] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

fa  with  a  cat-o'-nine  tails  under  his  chair: 
but,  because  they  never  had  any  children 
of  their  own,  they  took  into  their  heads 
(as  some  folks  do  still)  that  they  were  the 
only  people  in  the  world  who  knew  how  to 
manage  children:  and  they  first  brought 
K^\\$%  mto    England,    in    the   old    Anglo-Saxon 

times,  the  fashion  of  treating  free  boys,  and 
girls  too,  worse  than  you  would  treat  a  dog 
or  a  horse:  but  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid 
has  caught  them  all  long  ago;  and  given 
them  many  a  taste  of  their  own  rods;  and 
much  good  may  it  do  them. 

And  she  boxed  their  ears,  and  thumped 
them  over  the  head  with  rulers,  and  pan- 
died  their  hands  with  canes,  and  told  them 

H  t  O?  $         that  they  told  stories,  and  were  this  and 

W'h  !£   °*: 

i'4^1^  cfi         that   bad   sort   of   people;    and   the   more 

f )  {§&  .</  tneY  were  verY  indignant,  and  stood  upon 

Vj&f  their  honour,   and   declared  they  told  the 


[214] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


ti» 


truth,  the  more  she  declared  they  were  not,  and 
that  they  were  only  telling  lies;  and  at  last  she 
birched  them  all  round  soundly  with  her  great 
birch-rod  and  set  them  each  an  imposition  of  three 
hundred  thousand  lines  of  Hebrew  to  learn  by 
heart  before  she  came  back  next  Friday.  And  at 
that  they  all  cried  and  howled  so,  that  their  breaths 
came  all  up  through  the  sea  like  bubbles  out  of  soda- 
water;  and  that  is  one  reason  of  the  bubbles  in  the 
sea.  There  are  others:  but  that  is  the  one  which 
principally  concerns  little  boys.  And  by  that  time 
she  was  so  tired  that  she  was  glad  to  stop;  and,  in- 
deed, she  had  done  a  very  good  day's  work. 

Tom  did  not  quite  dislike  the  old  lady:  but  he 
could  not  help  thinking  her  a  little  spiteful — and  no 
wonder  if  she  was,  poor  old  soul;  for  if  she  has  to 
wait  to  grow  handsome  till  people  do  as  they  would  be 
done  by,  she  will  have  to  wait  a  very  long  time. 

[215] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


Poor  old  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid!  she 
has  a  great  deal  of  hard  work  before  her, 
and  had  better  have  been  born  a  washer- 
woman,   and    stood    over   a   tub   all   day: 
but,    you    see,    people    cannot    always 
choose  their  own  profession. 

But  Tom  longed  to  ask 
her  one  question;  and  after 
all,  whenever  she  looked  at 
him,  she  did  not  look  cross 
at  all;  and  now  and  then 
there  was  a  funny  smile  in  her 
face,  and  she  chuckled  to  her- 
self in  a  way  which  gave  Tom 
courage,  and  at  last  he  said: 
"Pray,  ma'am,  may  I  ask  you  a 
question?" 

Certainly,  my  little  dear." 
Why  don't  you  bring  all  the  bad 
masters  here  and  serve  them  out  too? 
The  butties  that  knock  about  the 
poor  collier-boys;  and  the  nailers  that 
file  off  their  lads'  noses  and  hammer 
[216] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


their  fingers;    and  all  the  master  sweeps, 
like  my  master  Grimes?     I  saw  him  fall 
into    the  water    long    ago;    so    I    surely 
expected  he  would  have  been  here.     I'm 
sure  he  was  bad  enough  to  me." 

Then  the  old  lady  looked  so 
very  stern  that  Tom  was 
quite  frightened,  and  sorry 
that  he  had  been  so  bold. 
But  she  was  not  angry  with 
him.  She  only  answered, 
"I  look  after  them  all  the 
week  round;  and  they  are 
in  a  very  different  place 
from  this,  because  they  knew 
that  they  were  doing  wrong." 

She  spoke  very  quietly;  but  there 
was  something  in  her  voice  which 
made  Tom  tingle  from  head  to  foot, 
as  if  he  had  got  into  a  shoal  of  sea-nettles. 

"But  these  people,"  she  went  on, 
"did  not  know  that  they  were  doing 
wrong:  they  were  only  stupid  and  impa- 

[217] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


tient;  and  therefore  I  only  punish  them  till  they 
become  patient,  and  learn  to  use  their  common  sense 
like  reasonable  beings.  But  as  for  chimney-sweeps, 
and  collier-boys,  and  nailer  lads,  my  sister  has  set 
good  people  to  stop  all  that  sort  of  thing;  and  very 
much  obliged  to  her  I  am;  for  if  she  could  only  stop 
the  cruel  masters  from  ill-using  poor  children,  I  should 
grow  handsome  at  least  a  thousand  years  sooner.  And 
now  do  you  be  a  good  boy,  and  do  as  you  would  be  done 
by,  which  they  did  not;  and  then,  when  my  sister, 
Madame  Doasyouwouldbedoneby,  comes  on  Sunday, 
perhaps  she  will  take  notice  of  you,  and  teach  you 
how  to  behave.  She  understands  that  better  than  I 
do."     And  so  she  went. 

Tom  was  very  glad  to  hear  that  there  was  no 
chance  of  meeting  Grimes  again,   though  he  was  a 

little  sorry  for   him,  consid- 
ering   that    he    used    some- 
times to  give  him  the   leav- 
ings of   the  beer: 
but    he   deter- 
,^,        mined 


to  be  a 


[218] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

very  good  boy  all  Saturday; 

and   he    was;   for    he    never 

frightened     one    crab,     nor 

tickled   any  live   corals,   nor    put 

stones    into    the    sea    anemones' 

mouths,    to     make    them     fancy 

they  had  got  a  dinner;  and  when 

Sunday  morning  came,  sure  enough,  Mrs.  Doasyou- 

wouldbedoneby  came    too.      Whereat    all    the    little 

children   began   dancing   and   clapping   their   hands, 

and  Tom  danced  too  with  all  his  might. 

And  as  for  the  pretty  lady,  I  cannot  tell  you  what 
the  colour  of  her  hair  was,  or  of  her  eyes:  no  more 
could  Tom;  for,  when  any  one  looks  at  her,  all  they 
can  think  of  is,  that  she  has  the  sweetest,  kindest, 
tenderest,  funniest,  merriest  face  they  ever  saw,  or 
want  to  see.  But  Tom  saw  that  she  was  a  very  tall 
woman,  as  tall  as  her  sister:  but  instead  of  being 
gnarly  and  horny,  and  scaly,  and  prickly,  like  her,  she 
was  the  most  nice,  soft,  fat,  smooth,  pussy,  cuddly, 
delicious  creature  who  ever  nursed  a  baby;  and  she 
understood  babies  thoroughly,  for  she  had  plenty  of 
her  own.  whole  rows  and  regiments  of  them,  and  has 

[219] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

to  this  day.  And  all  her  delight  was,  whenever  she 
had  a  spare  moment,  to  play  with  babies,  in  which  she 
showed  herself  a  woman  of  sense;  for  babies  are  the 
best  company,  and  the  pleasantest  playfellows,  in  the 
world;  at  least,  so  all  the  wise  people  in  the  world 
think.  And  therefore  when  the  children  saw  her,  they 
naturally  all  caught  hold  of  her,  and  pulled  her  till 
she  sat  down  on  a  stone,  and  climbed  into  her  lap,  and 
clung  round  her  neck,  and  caught  hold  of  her  hands; 
and  then  they  all  put  their  thumbs  into  their  mouths, 
and  began  cuddling  and  purring  like  so  many  kittens, 
as  they  ought  to  have  done.  While  those  who  could 
get  nowhere  else  sat  down  on  the  sand,  and  cuddled 
her  feet — for  no  one,  you  know,  wears  shoes  in  the 
water,  except  horrid  old  bathing-women,  who  are  afraid 
of  the  water-babies  pinching  their  horny  toes.  And 
Tom  stood  staring  at  them;  for  he  could  not  under- 
stand what  it  was  all  about. 

"And  who  are  you,  you  little  darling?"  she  said. 

"Oh,  that  is  the  new  baby!"  they  all  cried,  pulling 
their  thumbs  out  of  their  mouths;  "and  he  never  had 
any  mother,"  and  they  all  put  their  thumbs  back 
again,  for  they  did  not  wish  to  lose  any  time. 

[  220] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 


"Then  I  will  be  his  mother,  and 
he  shall  have  the  very  best  place;   so 
get    out,    all   of  you,    this    mo- 
ment." 

And  she  took  up  two 
great  armfuls  of  babies 
— nine    hundred    under 
one    arm,    and   thirteen 
hundred  under  the  other 
— and  threw  them   away, 
right  and  left,   into    the  water. 
But    they    minded    it    no     more 
than  the   naughty  boys  in   Struwel- 
peter    minded    when     St.    Nicholas 
dipped   them  in  his  inkstand;    and 
did  not  even  take  their  thumbs  out 
of  their  mouths,  but  came  paddling 
and  wriggling  back  to  her  like  so  many  tadpoles,  till 
you  could  see  nothing  of  her  from  head  to  foot  for 
the  swarm  of  little  babies. 

But  she  took  Tom  in  her  arms,  and  laid  him  in 
the  softest  place  of  all,  and  kissed  him,  and  patted 
him,  and  talked  to  him,  tenderly  and  low,  such  things 

[221] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

as  he  had  never  heard  before  in  his  life;  and  Tom 
looked  up  into  her  eyes,  and  loved  her,  and  loved,  till 
he  fell  fast  asleep  from  pure  love. 

And  when  he  woke  she  was  telling  the  children 
a  story.  And  what  story  did  she  tell  them?  One 
story  she  told  them,  which  begins  every  Christmas 
Eve,  and  yet  never  ends  at  all  for  ever  and  ever;  and, 
as  she  went  on,  the  children  took  their  thumbs  out  of 
their  mouths  and  listened  quite  seriously;  but  not 
sadly  at  all;  for  she  never  told  them  anything  sad; 
and  Tom  listened  too,  and  never  grew  tired  of 
listening.  And  he  listened  so  long  that  he  fell  fast 
asleep  again,  and,  when  he  woke,  the  lady  was  nursing 
him  still. 

"Don't  go  away,"  said  little  Tom.  "This  is  so 
nice.     I  never  had  any  one  to  cuddle  me  before." 

"Don't  go  away,"  said  all  the  children;  "you  have 
not  sung  us  one  song." 

"Well,  I  have  time  for  only  one.  So  what  shall 
it  be?" 

"The  doll  you  lost!  The  doll  you  lost!"  cried  all 
the  babies  at  once. 

So  the  strange  fairy  sang: — 

f  222  1 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


/  once  had  a  sweet  little  doll,  dears, 

The  prettiest  doll  in  the  world; 
Her  cheeks  were  so  red  and  so  white,  dears, 

And  her  hair  was  so  charmingly  curled. 
But  I  lost  my  poor  little  doll,  dears, 

As  I  played  in  the  heath  one  day; 
And  I  cried  for  her  more  than  a  week,  dears, 

But  I  never  could  find  where  she  lay. 
[223] 


THE   WATER- BABIES 

I  found  my  poor  little  doll,  dears, 

As  I  played  in  the  heath  one  day: 
Folks  say  she  is  terribly  changed,  dears, 

For  her  paint  is  all  washed  away, 
And  her  arm  trodden  off  by  the  cows,  dears, 

And  her  hair  not  the  least  bit  curled: 
Yet  for  old  sakes   sake  she  is  still,  dears, 

The  prettiest  doll  in  the  world. 

What  a  silly  song  for  a  fairy  to  sing! 

And  what  silly  water-babies  to  be  quite  delighted 
at  it! 

Well,  but  you  see  they  have  not  the  advantage  of 
Aunt  Agitate's  Arguments  in  the  sea-land  down  below. 

"Now,"  said  the  fairy  to  Tom,  "will  you  be  a  good 
boy  for  my  sake,  and  torment  no  more  sea-beasts  till  I 
come  back?" 


[224] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"And  you  will  cuddle  me  again?"  said  poor  little 
Tom. 

"Of  course  I  will,  you  little  duck.  I  should  like 
to  take  you  with  me  and  cuddle  you  all  the  way,  only 
I  must  not;"  and  away  she  went. 

So  Tom  really  tried  to  be  a  good  boy,  and  tor- 
mented no  sea- beasts  after  that  as  long  as  he  lived;  and 
he  is  quite  alive,  I  assure  you,  still. 

Oh,  how  good  little  boys  ought  to  be  who  have 
kind  pussy  mammas  to  cuddle  them  and  tell  them 
stories;  and  how  afraid  they  ought  to  be  of  growing 
naughty,  and  bringing  tears  into  their  mammas'  pretty 
eyes! 


[225] 


£>?05^^g3S> 


CHAPTER   VI 


HERE  I  come  to  the  very  saddest  part  of 
all  my  story.  I  know  some  people  will 
only  laugh  at  it,  and  call  it  much  ado 
about  nothing.  But  I  know  one  man 
who  would  not;  and  he  was  an  officer  with  a  pair 
of  gray  moustaches  as  long  as  your  arm,  who  said 
once  in  company  that  two  of  the  most  heartrending 
sights  in  the  world,  which  moved  him  most  to  tears, 
which  he  would  do  anything  to  prevent  or  remedy, 
were  a  child  over  a  broken  toy  and  a  child  stealing 
sweets. 

The  company  did  not  laugh  at  him ;  his  moustaches 
were  too  long  and  too  gray  for  that:  but,  after  he  was 

[229] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

gone,  they  called  him  sentimental  and  so  forth,  all  but 
one  dear  little  old  Quaker  lady  with  a  soul  as  white  as 
her  cap,  who  was  not,  of  course,  generally  partial  to 
soldiers;  and  she  said  very  quietly,  like  a  Quaker: 

"Friends,  it  is  borne  upon  my  mind  that  that  is  a 
truly  brave  man." 

Now  you  may  fancy  that  Tom  was  quite  good, 
when  he  had  everything  that  he  could  want  or  wish: 
but  you  would  be  very  much  mistaken.  Being  quite 
comfortable  is  a  very  good  thing;  but  it  does  not 
make  people  good.  Indeed,  it  sometimes  makes  them 
naughty,  as  it  made  the  people  in  the  Bible,  who  waxed 
fat  and  kicked,  like  horses  overfed  and  underworked. 
And  I  am  very  sorry  to  say  that  this  happened  to  little 
Tom.  For  he  grew  so  fond  of  the  sea-bullseyes  and 
sea-lollipops  that  his  foolish  little  head  could  think  of 
nothing  else:  and  he  was  always  longing  for  more, 
and  wondering  when  the  strange  lady  would  come 
again  and  give  him  some,  and  what  she  would  give 
him,  and  how  much,  and  whether  she  would  give  him 
more  than  the  others.  And  he  thought  of  nothing  but 
lollipops  by  day,  and  dreamt  of  nothing  else  by  night 
— and  what  happened  then? 

[230] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

That  he  began  to  watch  the  lady  to  see  where 
she  kept  the  sweet  things:  and  began  hiding,  and 
sneaking,  and  following  her  about,  and  pretending  to 
be  looking  the  other  way,  or  going  after  something 
else,  till  he  found  out  that  she  kept  them  in  a  beautiful 


mother-of-pearl  cabinet  away  in  a  deep  crack  of  the 
rocks. 

And  he  longed  to  go  to  the  cabinet,  and  yet  he  was 
afraid;  and  then  he  longed  again,  and  was  less  afraid; 
and  at  last,  by  continual  thinking  about  it,  he  longed 

[-31] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


so  violently  that  he  was  not  afraid  at  all.  And  one 
night,  when  all  the  other  children  were  asleep,  and 
he  could  not  sleep  for  thinking  of  lollipops,  he  crept 
away  among  the  rocks,  and  got  to  the  cabinet,  and 
behold!  it  was  open. 

But,  when  he  saw  all  the  nice  things  inside,  instead 
of  being  delighted,  he  was  quite  frightened,  and  wished 
he  had  never  come  there.  And  then  he  would  only 
touch  them,  and  he  did;  and  then  he  would  only  taste 
one,  and  he  did ;  and  then  he  would  only  eat  one,  and 
he  did;  and  then  he  would  only  eat  two,  and  then 
three,  and  so  on;  and  then  he  was  terrified  lest  she 
should  come  and  catch  him,  and  began  gobbling  them 
down  so  fast  that  he  did  not  taste  them,  or  have  any 
pleasure  in  them;  and  then  he  felt  sick,  and  would 
have  only  one  more;  and  then  only  one  more  again; 
and  so  on  till  he  had  eaten  them  all  up. 

And  all  the  while,  close  behind  him,  stood  Mrs. 

Bedonebyasyoudid. 
Some  people  may 

say,    But  why  did 


[232] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

she  not  keep  her  cupboard  locked?  Well,  I  know. — 
It  may  seem  a  very  strange  thing,  but  she  never  does 
keep  her  cupboard  locked;  every  one  may  go  and 
taste  for  themselves,  and  fare  accordingly.  It  is  very 
odd,  but  so  it  is;  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  she 
knows  best.  Perhaps  she  wishes  people  to  keep  their 
fingers  out  of  the  fire,  by  having  them  burned. 

She  took  off  her  spectacles,  because  she  did  not 
like  to  see  too  much;  and  in  her  pity  she  arched  up 
her  eyebrows  into  her  very  hair,  and  her  eyes  grew  so 
wide  that  they  would  have  taken  in  all  the  sorrows  of 
the  world,  and  filled  with  great  big  tears,  as  they  too 
often  did. 

But  all  she  said  was: 

"Ah,  you  poor  little  dear!  you  are  just  like  all  the 
rest." 

But  she  said  it  to  herself,  and  Tom  neither  heard 
nor  saw  her.  Now,  you  must  not  fancy  that  she  was 
sentimental  at  all.  If  you  do,  and  think  that  she  is 
going  to  let  off  you,  or  me,  or  any  human  being  when 
we  do  wrong,  because  she  is  too  tender-hearted  to 
punish  us,  then  you  will  find  yourself  very  much  mis- 
taken, as  many  a  man  does  every  year  and  every  day. 

[233  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


But  what  did  the  strange 
fairy  do  when  she  saw  all  her 
lollipops  eaten? 

Did  she  fly  at  Tom,  catch 
him  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck,  hold  him,  howk 
him,  hump  him,  hurry  him,  hit  him,  poke  him, 
pull  him,  pinch  him,  pound  him,  put  him  in 
the  corner,  shake  him,  slap  him,  set  him  on  a 
cold  stone  to  reconsider  himself,  and  so  forth? 

Not  a  bit.  You  may  watch  her  at  work 
if  you  know  where  to  find  her.  But  you  will 
never  see  her  do  that.  For,  if  she  had,  she 
knew  quite  well  Tom  would  have  fought,  and 
kicked,  and  bit,  and  said  bad  words,  and  turned 
again  that  moment  into  a  naughty  little  heathen 
chimney-sweep,  with  his  hand,  like  Ishmael's  of 
old,  against  every  man,  and  every  man's  hand 
Y?    against   him. 

Did  she  question  him,  hurry  him,  frighten 
him,  threaten  him,  to  make  him  confess?  Not 
a  bit.  You  may  see  her,  as  I  said,  at  her  work 
often  enough  if  you  know  where  to  look  for  her: 
but  you  will  never  see  her  do  that.     For,  if  she 

[234] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


had,  she  would  have  tempted  him 
to  tell  lies  in  his  fright;  and  that 
would  have  been  worse  for  him, 
if  possible,  than  even  becoming  a 
heathen  chimney-sweep  again. 

No.  She  leaves  that  for  anxious  parents 
and  teachers  (lazy  ones,  some  call  them),  who, 
instead  of  giving  children  a  fair  trial,  such  as 
they  would  expect  and  demand  for  themselves, 
force  them  by  fright  to  confess  their  own  faults 
— which  is  so  cruel  and  unfair  that  no  judge  on 
the  bench  dare  do  it  to  the  wickedest  thief  or 
murderer,  for  the  good  British  law  forbids  it — 
ay,  and  even  punish  them  to  make  them  con- 
fess, which  is  so  detestable  a  crime  that  it  is 
never  committed  now,  save  by  Inquisitors,  and 
Kings  of  Naples,  and  a  few  other  wretched 
people  of  whom  the  world  is  weary.  And  then  jSy 
they  say,  "We  have  trained  up  the  child  in  the 
way  he  should  go,  and  when  he  grew  up  he 
has  departed  from  it.  Why  then  did  Solomon 
say  that  he  would  not  depart  from  it?"  But 
perhaps  the  way  of  beating,  and  hurrying,  and 

[235] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

frightening,  and  questioning,  was  not  the  way  that 
the  child  should  go;  for  it  is  not  even  the  way  in 
which  a  colt  should  go  if  you  want  to  break  it  in 
and  make  it  a  quiet  serviceable  horse. 

Some  folks  may  say,  "Ah!  but  the  Fairy  does  not 
need  to  do  that  if  she  knows  everything  already." 
True.  But,  if  she  did  not  know,  she  would  not  surely 
behave  worse  than  a  British  judge  and  jury;  and  no 
more  should  parents  and  teachers  either. 

So  she  just  said  nothing  at  all  about  the  matter, 
not  even  when  Tom  came  next  day  with  the  rest  for 
sweet  things.  He  was  horribly  afraid  of  coming:  but 
he  was  still  more  afraid  of  staying  away,  lest  any  one 
should  suspect  him.  He  was  dreadfully  afraid,  too, 
lest  there  should  be  no  sweets — as  was  to  be  expected, 
he  having  eaten  them  all — and  lest  then  the  fairy 
should  inquire  who  had  taken  them.  But,  behold! 
she  pulled  out  just  as  many  as  ever,  which  astonished 
Tom,  and  frightened  him  still  more. 

And,  when  the  fairy  looked  him  full  in  the  face,  he 
shook  from  head  to  foot:  however  she  gave  him  his 
share  like  the  rest,  and  he  thought  within  himself  that 
she  could  not  have  found  him  out. 

[236] 


Mrs,  Bedonebyasyoudid 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

But,  when  he  put  the  sweets  into  his  mouth,  he 
hated  the  taste  of  them;  and  they  made  him  so  sick 
that  he  had  to  get  away  as  fast  as  he  could ;  and  terribly 
sick  he  was,  and  very  cross  and  unhappy,  all  the  week 
after. 

Then,  when  next  week  came,  he  had  his  share  again; 
and  again  the  fairy  looked  him  full  in  the  face;  but 
more  sadly  than  she  had  ever  looked.  And  he  could 
not  bear  the  sweets:  but  took  them  again  in  spite  of 
himself. 

And  when  Mrs.  Doasyouwouldbedoneby  came,  he 
wanted  to  be  cuddled  like  the  rest;  but  she  said  very 
seriously: 

"I  should  like  to  cuddle  you;  but  I  cannot,  you 
are  so  horny  and  prickly." 

And  Tom  looked  at  himself:  and  he  was  all  over 
prickles,  just  like  a  sea-egg. 

Which  was  quite  natural;  for  you  must  know  and 
believe  that  people's  souls  make  their  bodies  just  as  a 
snail  makes  its  shell  (I  am  not  joking,  my  little  man; 
I  am  in  serious,  solemn  earnest).  And  therefore,  when 
Tom's  soul  grew  all  prickly  with  naughty  tempers,  his 
body  could  not  help  growing  prickly  too,  so  that  nobody 

i~37] 


\ 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

would  cuddle  him,  or  play  with  him,  or  even  like  to 
look  at  him. 

What  could  Tom  do  now  but  go  away  and  hide  in 
a  corner  and  cry?  For  nobody  would  play  with  him, 
and  he  knew  full  well  why. 

And  he  was  so  miserable  all  that  week  that  when 
the  ugly  fairy  came  and  looked  at  him  once  more  full 


in  the  face,  more  seriously  and  sadly  than  ever,  he 
could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  thrust  the  sweetmeats 
away,  saying,  "No,  I  don't  want  any:  I  can't  bear 
them  now,"  and  then  burst  out  crying,  poor  little 
man,  and  told  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid  every  word  as 
it  happened. 

He  was  horribly  frightened  when  he  had  done  so; 
for  he  expected  her  to  punish  him  very  severely.     But, 

[238] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


instead,  she  only  took  him  up  and  kissed  him,  which 
was  not  quite  pleasant,  for  her  chin  was  very  bristly 
indeed;  but  he  was  so  lonely-hearted,  he  thought  that 
rough  kissing  was  better  than  none. 

"I  will  forgive  you,  little  man,"  she  said.  "I 
always  forgive  every  one  the  moment  they  tell  me  the 
truth  of  their  own  accord." 

"Then  you  will  take  away  all  these  nasty  prickles?" 

"That  is  a  very  different  matter.  You  put  them 
there  yourself,  and  only  you  can  take  them  away." 

"But  how  can  I  do  that?"  asked  Tom,  crying 
afresh. 

"Well,  I  think  it  is  time  for  you  to  go  to  school; 


so    I    shall   fetch 

mistress,  who  will 

how  to  get 

prickles." 

went  away. 

frightened 

of    a    school 

thought  she  would 

a  birch-rod  or  a  cane; 

himself,   at  last,   that 


you  a  school- 
teach   you 
rid  of  your 
And  so  she 
Tom    was 
at   the   notion 
mistress;    for  he 
tainly  come  with 
but   he  comforted 
she  might  be  some- 


[239] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

thing  like  the  old  woman  in  Vendale — which  she  was 
not  in  the  least;  for,  when  the  fairy  brought  her,  she 
was  the  most  beautiful  little  girl  that  ever  was  seen, 
with  long  curls  floating  behind  her  like  a  golden 
cloud,  and  long  robes  floating  all  round  her  like  a 
silver  one. 

"There  he  is,"  said  the  fairy;  "and  you  must  teach 
him  to  be  good,  whether  you  like  or  not." 

"I  know,"  said  the  little  girl;  but  she  did  not  seem 
quite  to  like,  for  she  put  her  finger  in  her  mouth,  and 
looked  at  Tom  under  her  brows;  and  Tom  put  his 
finger  in  his  mouth,  and  looked  at  her  under  his  brows, 
for  he  was  horribly  ashamed  of  himself. 

The  little  girl  seemed  hardly  to  know  how  to  begin; 
and  perhaps  she  would  never  have  begun  at  all  if  poor 
Tom  had  not  burst  out  crying,  and  begged  her  to  teach 
him  to  be  good  and  help  him  to  cure  his  prickles;  and  at 
that  she  grew  so  tender-hearted  that  she  began  teaching 
him  as  prettily  as  ever  child  was  taught  in  the  world. 

And  what  did  the  little  girl  teach  Tom?  She 
taught  him,  first,  what  you  have  been  taught  ever  since 
you  said  your  first  prayers  at  your  mother's  knees;  but 
she  taught  him  much  more  simply.     For  the  lessons  in 

[24°] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

that  world,  my  child,  have  no  such  hard  words  in  them 
as  the  lessons  in  this,  and  therefore  the  water-babies 
like  them  better  than  you  like  your  lessons,  and  long 
to  learn  them  more  and  more;  and  grown  men  cannot 
puzzle  nor  quarrel  over  their  meaning,  as  they  do  here 
on  land;  for  those  lessons  all  rise  clear  and  pure  out  of 
the  everlasting  ground  of  all  life  and  truth. 

So  she  taught  Tom  every  day  in  the  week;  only 
on  Sundays  she  always  went  away  home,  and  the  kind 
fairy  took  her  place.  And  before  she  had  taught  Tom 
many  Sundays,  his  prickles  had  vanished  quite  away, 
and  his  skin  was  smooth  and  clean  again. 

"Dear  me!"  said  the  little  girl;  "why,  I  know 
you  now.  You  are  the  very  same  little  chimney- 
sweep who  came  into  my  bedroom." 

"Dear  me!"  cried  Tom.  "And  I  know  you,  too, 
now.  You  are  the  very  little  white  lady  whom  I  saw 
in  bed."  And  he  jumped  at  her,  and  longed  to  hug 
and  kiss  her;  but  did  not,  remembering  that  she  was 
a  lady  born;  so  he  only  jumped  round  and  round  her 
till  he  was  quite  tired. 

And  then  they  began  telling  each  other  all  their 
story — how  he  had  got  into  the  water,  and  she  had 

[241] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

fallen  over  the  rock;  and  how  he  had  swum  down  to 
the  sea,  and  how  she  had  flown  out  of  the  window; 
and  how  this,  that,  and  the  other,  till  it  was  all  talked 
out:  and  then  they  both  began  over  again,  and  I  can't 
say  which  of  the  two  talked  fastest. 

And  then  they  set  to  work  at  their  lessons  again, 
and  both  liked  them  so  well  that  they  went  on  well 
till  seven  full  years  were  past  and  gone. 

You  may  fancy  that  Tom  was  quite  content  and 
happy  all  those  seven  years;  but  the  truth  is,  he  was 
not.  He  had  always  one  thing  on  his  mind,  and  that 
was — where  little  Ellie  went,  when  she  went  home  on 
Sundays. 

To  a  very  beautiful  place,  she  said. 

But  what  was  the  beautiful  place  like,  and  where 
was  it? 

Ah!  that  is  just  what  she  could  not  say.  And  it 
is  strange,  but  true,  that  no  one  can  say;  and  that 
those  who  have  been  oftenest  in  it,  or  even  nearest  to 
it,  can  say  least  about  it,  and  make  people  understand 
least  what  it  is  like.  There  are  a  good  many  folks 
about  the  Other-end-of-Nowhere  (where  Tom  went  after- 
wards), who  pretend  to  know  it  from  north  to  south 

[242] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


as  well  as  if  they  had  been  penny 
postmen  there;  but,  as  they  are 
safe  at  the  Other-end-of-Nowhere, 
nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  mil- 
lion miles  away,  what  they  say  can- 
not concern  us. 

But  the  dear,  sweet,  loving, 
wise,  good,  self-sacrificing  people, 
who  really  go  there,  can  never  tell 
you  anything  about  it,  save  that 
it  is  the  most  beautiful  place  in 
all  the  world;  and,  if  you  ask  them 
more,  they  grow  modest,  and  hold 
their  peace,  for  fear  of  being  laughed 
at;   and  quite  right  they  are. 

So  all  that  good  little  Ellie 
could  say  was,  that  it  was  worth 
all  the  rest  of  the  world  put  to- 
gether. And  of  course  that  only 
made  Tom  the  more  anxious  to  go 
likewise. 

"Miss  Ellie,"  he  said  at  last, 
"I  will  know  why  I  cannot  go  with 

[243] 


^ 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

you  when  you  go  home  on  Sundays,  or  I  shall  have  no 
peace,  and  give  you  none  either." 

"You  must  ask  the  fairies  that." 

So  when  the  fairy,  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid,  came 
next,  Tom  asked  her. 

"Little  boys  who  are  only  fit  to  play  with  sea- 
beasts  cannot  go  there,"  she  said.  "Those  who  go 
there  must  go  first  where  they  do  not  like,  and  do 
what  they  do  not  like,  and  help  somebody  they  do  not 
like." 

"Why,  did  Ellie  do  that?" 

"Ask  her." 

And  Ellie  blushed,  and  said,  "Yes,  Tom,  I  did  not 
like  coming  here  at  first;  I  was  so  much  happier  at 
home,  where  it  is  always  Sunday.  And  I  was  afraid 
of  you,  Tom,  at  first,  because — because " 

"Because  I  was  all  over  prickles?  But  I  am  not 
prickly  now,  am  I,  Miss  Ellie?" 

"No,"  said  Ellie.  "I  like  you  very  much  now; 
and  I  like  coming  here,  too." 

"And  perhaps,"  said  the  fairy,  "you  will  learn  to 
like  going  where  you  don't  like,  and  helping  some  one 
that  you  don't  like,  as  Ellie  has." 

[244] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

But  Tom  put  his  finger  in  his  mouth,  and  hung 
his  head  down;  for  he  did  not  see  that  at  all. 

So  when  Mrs.  Doasyouwouldbedoneby  came,  Tom 
asked  her;  for  he  thought  in  his  little  head,  She  is 
not  so  strict  as  her  sister,  and  perhaps  she  may  let  me 
off  more  easily. 

Ah,  Tom,  Tom,  silly  fellow!  and  yet  I  don't  know 
why  I  should  blame  you,  while  so  many  grown  people 
have  got  the  very  same  notion  in  their  heads. 

But,  when  they  try  it,  they  get  just  the  same 
answer  as  Tom  did.  For,  when  he  asked  the  second 
fairy,  she  told  him  just  what  the  first  did,  and  in  the 
very  same  words. 


[24S] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Tom  was  very  unhappy  at  that.  And,  when  Ellie 
went  home  on  Sunday,  he  fretted  and  cried  all  day, 
and  did  not  care  to  listen  to  the  fairy's  stories  about 
good  children,  though  they  were  prettier  than  ever. 
Indeed,  the  more  he  overheard  of  them,  the  less  he 
liked  to  listen,  because  they  were  all  about  children 
who  did  what  they  did  not  like,  and  took  trouble  for 
other  people,  and  worked  to  feed  their  little  brothers 
and  sisters  instead  of  caring  only  for  their  play.  And, 
when  she  began  to  tell  a  story  about  a  holy  child  in 
old  times,  who  was  martyred  by  the  heathen  because 
it  would  not  worship  idols,  Tom  could  bear  no  more, 
and  ran  away  and  hid  among  the  rocks. 

And,  when  Ellie  came  back,  he  was  shy  with  her, 
because  he  fancied  she  looked  down  on  him,  and 
thought  him  a  coward.  And  then  he  grew  quite  cross 
with  her,  because  she  was  superior  to  him,  and  did 
what  he  could  not  do.  And  poor  Ellie  was  quite 
surprised  and  sad;  and  at  last  Tom  burst  out  crying; 
but  he  would  not  tell  her  what  was  really  in  his  mind. 

And  all  the  while  he  was  eaten  up  with  curiosity 
to  know  where  Ellie  went  to;  so  that  he  began  not  to 
care  for  his  playmates,  or  for  the  sea-palace  or  any- 

[246] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

thing  else.  But  perhaps  that  made  matters  all  the 
easier  for  him;  for  he  grew  so  discontented  with  every- 
thing round  him  that  he  did  not  care  to  stay,  and  did 
not  care  where  he  went. 

"Well,"  he  said,  at  last,  "I  am  so  miserable  here, 
I'll  go;  if  only  you  will  go  with  me?" 

"Ah!"  said  Ellie,  "I  wish  I  might;  but  the  worst 
of  it  is,  that  the  fairy  says  that  you  must  go  alone  if 
you  go  at  all.  Now  don't  poke  that  poor  crab  about, 
Tom"  (for  he  was  feeling  very  naughty  and  mis- 
chievous), "or  the  fairy  will  have  to  punish  you." 

Tom  was  very  nearly  saying,  "I  don't  care  if  she 
does;"  but  he  stopped  himself  in  time. 

"I  know  what  she  wants  me  to  do,"  he  said, 
whining  most  dolefully.  "She  wants  me  to  go  after 
that  horrid  old  Grimes.  I  don't  like  him,  that's  cer- 
tain. And  if  I  find  him,  he  will  turn  me  into  a  chimney- 
sweep again,  I  know.  That's  what  I  have  been  afraid 
of  all  along." 

"No,  he  won't — I  know  as  much  as  that.  Nobody 
can  turn  water-babies  into  sweeps,  or  hurt  them  at  all, 
as  long  as  they  are  good." 

"Ah,"  said  naughty  Tom,  "I  see  what  you  want; 

[247] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

you  are  persuading  me  all  along  to  go,  because  you 
are  tired  of  me,  and  want  to  get  rid  of  me." 

Little  Ellie  opened  her  eyes  very  wide  at  that,  and 
they  were  all  brimming  over  with  tears. 

"Oh,  Tom,  Tom!"  she  said,  very  mournfully — and 
then  she  cried,  "Oh,  Tom!  where  are  you?" 

And  Tom  cried,  "Oh,  Ellie,  where  are  you?" 

For  neither  of  them  could  see  each  other — not 
the  least.  Little  Ellie  vanished  quite  away,  and  Tom 
heard  her  voice  calling  him,  and  growing  smaller  and 
smaller,  and  fainter  and  fainter,  till  all  was  silent. 

Who  was  frightened  then  but  Tom?  He  swam 
up  and  down  among  the  rocks,  into  all  the  halls  and 
chambers,  faster  than  ever  he  swam  before,  but  could 
not  find  her.  He  shouted  after  her,  but  she  did  not 
answer;  he  asked  all  the  other  children,  but  they  had 
not  seen  her;  and  at  last  he  went  up  to  the  top  of  the 
water  and  began  crying  and  screaming  for  Mrs.  Bedone- 
byasyoudid — which  perhaps  was  the  best  thing  to  do 
— for  she  came  in  a  moment. 

[248] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Oh!"  said  Tom.  "Oh  dear,  oh  dear!  I  have 
been  naughty  to  Ellie,  and  I  have  killed  her — I  know  I 
have  killed  her." 

"Not  quite  that,"  said  the  fairy;  "but  I  have  sent 
her  away  home,  and  she  will  not  come  back  again  for  I 
do  not  know  how  long." 

And  at  that  Tom  cried  so  bitterly  that  the  salt 
sea  was  swelled  with  his  tears,  and  the  tide  was  3,954,- 
620,819  °f  an  mcn  higher  than  it  had  been  the  day 
before:  but  perhaps  that  was  owing  to  the  waxing  of 
the  moon. 

"How  cruel  of  you  to  send  Ellie  away!"  sobbed 
Tom.  "However,  I  will  find  her  again,  if  I  go  to  the 
world's  end  to  look  for  her." 

The  fairy  did  not  slap  Tom,  and  tell  him  to  hold 
his  tongue:  but  she  took  him  on  her  lap  very  kindly, 
just  as  her  sister  would  have  done;  and  put  him  in 
mind  how  it  was  not  her  fault,  because  she  was  wound 


[249] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

up  inside,  like  watches,  and  could  not  help  doing 
things  whether  she  liked  or  not.  And  then  she  told 
him  how  he  had  been  in  the  nursery  long  enough,  and 
must  go  out  now  and  see  the  world,  if  he  intended 
ever  to  be  a  man;  and  how  he  must  go  all  alone  by 
himself,  as  every  one  else  that  ever  was  born  has  to 
go,  and  see  with  his  own  eyes,  and  smell  with  his  own 
nose,  and  make  his  own  bed  and  lie  on  it,  and  burn 
his  own  fingers  if  he  put  them  into  the  fire.  And 
then  she  told  him  how  many  fine  things  there  were 
to  be  seen  in  the  world,  and  what  an  odd,  curious, 
pleasant,  orderly,  respectable,  well-managed,  and,  on 
the  whole,  successful  (as,  indeed,  might  have  been 
expected)  sort  of  a  place  it  was,  if  people  would  only 
be  tolerably  brave  and  honest  and  good  in  it;  and 
then  she  told  him  not  to  be  afraid  of  anything  he  met, 
for  nothing  would  harm  him  if  he  remembered  all 
his  lessons,  and  did  what  he  knew  was  right.  And  at 
last  she  comforted  poor  little  Tom  so  much  that  he 
was  quite  eager  to  go,  and  wanted  to  set  out  that 
minute.  "Only,"  he  said,  "if  I  might  see  Ellie  once 
before  I  went!" 

"Why  do  you  want  that?" 

[250] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

"Because — because  I  should  be  so  much  happier  if 
I  thought  she  had  forgiven  me." 

And  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  there  stood  Ellie, 
smiling,  and  looking  so  happy  that  Tom  longed  to  kiss 
her;  but  was  still  afraid  it  would  not  be  respectful, 
because  she  was  a  lady  born. 

"I  am  going,  Ellie!"  said  Tom.  "I  am  going,  if 
it  is  to  the  world's  end.  But  I  don't  like  going  at  all, 
and  that's  the  truth." 

"Pooh!  pooh!  pooh!"  said  the  fairy.  "You  will 
like  it  very  well  indeed,  you  little  rogue,  and  you  know 
that  at  the  bottom  of  your  heart.  But  if  you  don't, 
I  will  make  you  like  it.  Come  here,  and  see  what 
happens  to  people  who  do  only  what  is  pleasant." 

And  she  took  out  of  one  of  her  cupboards  (she  had 
all  sorts  of  mysterious  cupboards  in  the  cracks  of  the 
rocks)  the  most  wonderful  waterproof  book,  full  of 
such  photographs  as  never  were  seen.  For  she  had 
found  out  photography  (and  this  is  a  fact)  more  than 
13,598,000  years  before  anybody  was  born;  and,  what 
is  more,  her  photographs  did  not  merely  represent 
light  and  shade,  as  ours  do,  but  color  also,  and  all 
colors,  as  you  may  see  if  you  look  at  a  blackcock's  tail, 

[251] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

or  a  butterfly's  wing,  or  indeed  most  things  that  are 
or  can  be,  so  to  speak.  And  therefore  her  photo- 
graphs were  very  curious  and  famous,  and  the  children 
looked  with  great  delight  for  the  opening  of  the  book. 

And  on  the  title-page  was  written,  "The  History 
of  the  great  and  famous  nation  of  the  Doasyoulikes, 
who  came  away  from  the  country  of  Hardwork,  because 
they  wanted  to  play  on  the  Jews'  harp  all  day  long." 

In  the  first  picture  they  saw  these  Doasyoulikes 
living  in  the  land  of  Readymade,  at  the  foot  of  the 
Happy-go-lucky  Mountains,  where  flapdoodle  grows 
wild;  and  if  you  want  to  know  what  that  is,  you 
must  read  Peter  Simple. 

They  lived  very  much  such  a  life  as  those  jolly  old 
Greeks  in  Sicily,  whom  you  may  see  painted  on  the 
ancient  vases,  and  really  there  seemed  to  be  great 
excuses  for  them,  for  they  had  no  need  to  work. 

Instead  of  houses  they  lived  in  the  beautiful  caves 
of  tufa,  and  bathed  in  the  warm  springs  three  times 
a  day;  and,  as  for  clothes,  it  was  so  warm  there  that 
the  gentlemen  walked  about  in  little  beside  a  cocked 
hat  and  a  pair  of  straps,  or  some  light  summer  tackle 
of  that  kind;   and  the  ladies  all  gathered  gossamer  in 

[252] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

autumn  (when  they  were  not  too  lazy)  to  make  their 
winter  dresses. 

They  were  very  fond  of  music,  but  it  was  too 
much  trouble  to  learn  the  piano  or  the  violin;  and  as 
for  dancing,  that  would  have  been  too  great  an  ex- 


ertion. So  they  sat  on  ant-hills  all  day  long,  and 
played  on  the  Jews'  harp;  and,  if  the  ants  bit  them, 
why  they  just  got  up  and  went  to  the  next  ant-hill, 
till  they  were  bitten  there  likewise. 

And  they  sat  under  the  flapdoodle-trees,  and  let 

[253] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

the  flapdoodle  drop  into  their  mouths;  and  under  the 
vines,  and  squeezed  the  grape-juice  down  their  throats; 
and,  if  any  little  pigs  ran  about  ready  roasted,  crying, 
"Come  and  eat  me,"  as  was  their  fashion  in  that 
country,  they  waited  till  the  pigs  ran  against  their 
mouths,  and  then  took  a  bite,  and  were  content,  just 
as  so  many  oysters  would  have  been. 

They  needed  no  weapons,  for  no  enemies  ever 
came  near  their  land;  and  no  tools,  for  everything 
was  readymade  to  their  hand;  and  the  stern  old  fairy 
Necessity  never  came  near  them  to  hunt  them  up,  and 
make  them  use  their  wits,  or  die. 

And  so  on,  and  so  on,  and  so  on,  till  there  were 
never  such  comfortable,  easy-going,  happy-go-lucky 
people  in  the  world. 

"Well,  that  is  a  jolly  life,"  said  Tom. 

"You  think  so?"  said  the  fairy.  "Do  you  see 
that  great  peaked  mountain  there  behind,"  said  the 
fairy,  "with  smoke  coming  out  of  its  top?" 

"Yes." 

"And  do  you  see  all  those  ashes,  and  slag,  and 
cinders  lying  about?" 

"Yes." 

[254] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Then  turn  over  the  next  five  hundred  years,  and 
you  will  see  what  happens  next." 

And  behold  the  mountain  had  blown  up  like  a 
barrel  of  gunpowder,  and  then  boiled  over  like  a  kettle; 
whereby  one-third   of   the   Doasyoulikes  were   blown 


into  the  air,   and   another  third  were  smothered   in 
ashes;   so  that  there  was  only  one-third  left. 

"You  see,"  said  the  fairy,  "what  comes  of  living 
on  a  burning  mountain." 

"Oh,  why  did  you  not  warn  them?"  said  little 
Ellie. 

[255] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"I  did  warn  them  all  that  I  could.  I  let  the 
smoke  come  out  of  the  mountain;  and  wherever  there 
is  smoke  there  is  fire.  And  I  laid  the  ashes  and  cinders 
all  about;  and  wherever  there  are  cinders,  cinders  may 
be  again.  But  they  did  not  like  to  face  facts,  my  dears, 
as  very  few  people  do;  and  so  they  invented  a  cock- 
and-bull  story,  which,  I  am  sure,  I  never  told  them, 
that  the  smoke  was  the  breath  of  a  giant,  whom  some 
gods  or  other  had  buried  under  the  mountain;  and 
that  the  cinders  were  what  the  dwarfs  roasted  the  little 
pigs  whole  with;  and  other  nonsense  of  that  kind.  And, 
when  folks  are  in  that  humour,  I  cannot  teach  them, 
save  by  the  good  old  birch-rod." 

And  then  she  turned  over  the  next  five  hundred 
years:  and  there  were  the  remnant  of  the  Doasyoulikes, 
doing  as  they  liked,  as  before.  They  were  too  lazy  to 
move  away  from  the  mountain;  so  they  said,  If  it  has 
blown  up  once,  that  is  all  the  more  reason  that  it 
should  not  blow  up  again.  And  they  were  few  in 
number:  but  they  only  said,  The  more  the  merrier, 
but  the  fewer  the  better  fare.  However,  that  was  not 
quite  true;  for  all  the  flapdoodle-trees  were  killed  by 
the  volcano,  and  they  had  eaten  all  the  roast  pigs, 

[256] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

who,  of  course,  could  not  be  expected  to  have  little 
ones.  So  they  had  to  live  very  hard,  on  nuts  and 
roots  which  they  scratched  out  of  the  ground  with 
sticks.  Some  of  them  talked  of  sowing  corn,  as  their 
ancestors  used  to  do,  before  they  came  into  the  land 
of  Readymade;  but  they  had  forgotten  how  to  make 
ploughs  (they  had  forgotten  even  how  to  make  Jews' 
harps  by  this  time),  and  had  eaten  all  the  seed-corn 
which  they  brought  out  of  the  land  of  Hardwork  years 
since;  and  of  course  it  was  too  much  trouble  to  go 
away  and  find  more.  So  they  lived  miserably  on 
roots  and  nuts,  and  all  the  weakly  little  children  had 
great  stomachaches,  and  then  died. 

"Why,"  said  Tom,  "they  are  growing  no  better 
than  savages." 

"And  look  how  ugly  they  are  all  getting,"  said 
Ellie. 

"Yes;  when  people  live  on  poor  vegetables  instead 
of  roast  beef  and  plum-pudding,  their  jaws  grow  large, 
and  their  lips  grow  coarse,  like  the  poor  Paddies  who 
eat  potatoes." 

And  she  turned  over  the  next  five  hundred  years. 
And  there  they  were  all  living  up  in  trees,  and  making 

[257] 


/ 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


nests  to  keep  off  the  rain.  And  underneath  the  trees 
lions  were  prowling  about. 

"Why,"  said  Ellie,  "the  lions  seem  to  have  eaten  a 
good  many  of  them,  for  there  are  very  few  left  now. " 

"Yes,"  said  the  fairy;  "you  see  it  was  only  the 
strongest  and  most  active  ones  who  could  climb  the 
trees,  and  so  escape." 

"But  what  great,  hulking,  broad-shouldered  chaps 
they  are,"  said  Tom;  "they  are  a  rough  lot  as  ever  I 
saw." 

"Yes,  they  are  getting  very  strong  now;  for  the 
ladies  will  not  marry  any  but  the  very  strongest  and 
fiercest  gentlemen,  who  can  help  them  up  the  trees 
out  of  the  lions'  way." 

And  she  turned  over  the  next  five  hundred  years. 


And  in  that  they 
s  tron  ger,  and 
had  changed  shape 
laid  hold  of  the 
great  toes  as  if  they 
just  as  a 
lor  uses 
thread      his 


were   fewer    still,    and 
fiercer;    but  their  feet 
very    oddly,    for   they 
branches    with     their 
had      been      thumbs, 
Hindoo  tai- 
his    toes    to 
needle. 


[258] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


The  children  were  very  much  sur- 
prised, and  asked  the  fairy  whether 
that  was  her  doing. 

"Yes,  and  no,"  she  said,  smiling. 
"It   was   only   those   who   could    use 
their   feet   as  well   as   their   hands 
who  could  get  a  good  living:   or, 
indeed,  get  married;   so  that  they 
got  the  best  of  everything, 
and  starved  out  all  the  rest; 

and  those  who  are  left  keep  up  a  regular  breed  of 
toe-thumb-men,  as  a  breed  of  short-horns,  or  skye- 
terriers,  or  fancy  pigeons  is  kept  up." 

"But  there  is  a  hairy  one  among  them,"  said  Ellie. 

"Ah!"  said  the  fairy,  "that  will  be  a  great  man 
in  his  time,  and  chief  of  all  the  tribe." 

And,  when  she  turned  over  the  next  five  hundred 
vears,  it  was  true. 

For  this  hairy  chief  had  had  hairy  children,  and 
they  hairier  children  still;  and  every  one  wished  to 
marry  hairy  husbands,  and  have  hairy  children  too;  for 
the  climate  was  growing  so  damp  that  none  but  the 
hairy  ones  could  live:  all  the  rest  coughed  and  sneezed, 

[259] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

and  had  sore  throats,  and  went  into  consumptions, 
before  they  could  grow  up  to  be  men  and  women. 

Then  the  fairy  turned  over  the  next  five  hundred 
years.     And  they  were  fewer  still. 

"Why,  there  is  one  on  the  ground  picking  up 
roots,"  said  Ellie,  "and  he  cannot  walk  upright." 

No  more  he  could;  for  in  the  same  way  that  the 
shape  of  their  feet  had  altered,  the  shape  of  their 
backs  had  altered  also. 

"Why,"  cried  Tom,  "I  declare  they  are  all  apes." 

"Something  fearfully  like  it,  poor  foolish  crea- 
tures," said  the  fairy.  "They  are  grown  so  stupid  now, 
that  they  can  hardly  think:  for  none  of  them  have  used 
their  wits  for  many  hundred  years.  They  have  almost 
forgotten,  too,  how  to  talk.  For  each  stupid  child  for- 
got some  of  the  words  it  heard  from  its  stupid  parents, 
and  had  not  wits  enough  to  make  fresh  words  for 
itself.  Besides,  they  are  grown  so  fierce  and  suspicious 
and  brutal  that  they  keep  out  of  each  other's  way, 
and  mope  and  sulk  in  the  dark  forests,  never  hearing 
each  other's  voice,  till  they  have  forgotten  almost  what 
speech  is  like.  I  am  afraid  they  will  all  be  apes  very 
soon,  and  all  by  doing  only  what  they  liked." 

[260] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

And  in  the  next  five  hundred  years  they  were  all 
dead  and  gone,  by  bad  food  and  wild  beasts  and 
hunters;  all  except  one  tremendous  old  fellow  with 
jaws  like  a  jack,  who  stood  full  seven  feet  high;  and 
M.  Du  Chaillu  came  up  to  him,  and  shot  him,  as  he 
stood  roaring  and  thumping  his  breast.  And  he  re- 
membered that  his  ancestors  had  once  been  men,  and 
tried  to  say,  "Am  I  not  a  man  and  a  brother?"  but 
had  forgotten  how  to  use  his  tongue;  and  then  he 
had  tried  to  call  for  a  doctor,  but  he  had  forgotten  the 
word  for  one.     So  all  he  said  was  "Ubboboo!"  and  died. 

And  that  was  the  end  of  the  great  and  jolly  nation 
of  the  Doasyoulikes.  And,  when  Tom  and  Ellie  came 
to  the  end  of  the  book,  they  looked  very  sad  and 
solemn;  and  they  had  good  reason  so  to  do,  for  they 
really  fancied  that  the  men  were  apes,  and  never  thought, 
in  their  simplicity,  of  asking  whether  the  creatures  had 
hippopotamus  majors  in  their  brains  or  not;  in  which 
case,  as  you  have  been  told  already,  they  could  not 
possibly  have  been  apes,  though  they  were  more  apish 
than  the  apes  of  all  aperies. 

"But  could  you  not  have  saved  them  from  becoming 
apes?"  said  little  Ellie,  at  last. 

[261] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

'  'At  first,  my  dear ;  if  only  they  would  have  behaved 
like  men,  and  set  to  work  to  do  what  they  did  not  like. 
But  the  longer  they  waited,  and  behaved  like  the 
dumb  beasts,  who  only  do  what  they  like,  the  stupider 
and  clumsier  they  grew;  till  at  last  they  were  past  all 
cure,  for  they  had  thrown  their  own  wits  away.  It  is 
such  things  as  this  that  help  to  make  me  so  ugly,  that 
I  know  not  when  I  shall  grow  fair." 

"And  where  are  they  all  now?"  asked  Ellie. 

"Exactly  where  they  ought  to  be,  my  dear." 

"Yes!"  said  the  fairy,  solemnly,  half  to  herself,  as 
she  closed  the  wonderful  book.  "Folks  say  now  that 
I  can  make  beasts  into  men,  by  circumstance,  and  selec- 
tion, and  competition,  and  so  forth.  Well,  perhaps 
they  are  right;  and  perhaps,  again,  they  are  wrong. 
That  is  one  of  the  seven  things  which  I  am  forbidden 
to  tell,  till  the  coming  of  the  Cocqcigrues;  and,  at  all 
events,  it  is  no  concern  of  theirs.  Whatever  their 
ancestors  were,  men  they  are;  and  I  advise  them  to 
behave  as  such,  and  act  accordingly.  But  let  them 
recollect  this,  that  there  are  two  sides  to  every  question, 
and  a  downhill  as  well  as  an  uphill  road;  and,  if  I 
can  turn  beasts  into  men,  I  can,  by  the  same  laws  of 

[262] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

circumstance,  and  selection,  and  competition,  turn  men 
into  beasts.  You  were  very  near  being  turned  into  a 
beast  once  or  twice,  little  Tom.  Indeed,  if  you  had 
not  made  up  your  mind  to  go  on  this  journey,  and  see 
the  world,  like  an  Englishman,  I  am  not  sure  but  that 
you  would  have  ended  as  an  eft  in  a  pond." 

"Oh,  dear  me!"  said  Tom;  "sooner  than  that,  and 
be  all  over  slime,  I'll  go  this  minute,  if  it  is  to  the 
world's  end." 


[263] 


CHAPTER    VII 


OW,"  said  Tom,  "I  am  ready  to  be  off, 
if  it's  to  the  world's  end." 

"Ah!"  said  the  fairy,  "that  is  a 
brave,  good  boy.  But  you  must  go 
farther  than  the  world's  *end,  if  you  want  to  find 
Mr.  Grimes;  for  he  is  at  the  Other-end-of-Nowhere. 
You  must  go  to  Shiny  Wall,  and  through  the  white 
gate  that  never  was  opened;  and  then  you  will 
come  to  Peacepool,  and  Mother  Carey's  Haven, 
where  the  good  whales  go  when  they  die.  And  there 
Mother  Carey  will  tell  you  the  way  to  the  Other-end-of- 
Nowhere,  and  there  you  will  find  Mr.  Grimes." 

[267] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Oh,  dear!"  said  Tom.  "But  I  do  not  know  my 
way  to  Shiny  Wall,  or  where  it  is  at  all." 

"Little  boys  must  take  the  trouble  to  find  out 
things  for  themselves,  or  they  will  never  grow  to  be 
men;  so  that  you  must  ask  all  the  beasts  in  the  sea  and 
the  birds  in  the  air,  and  if  you  have  been  good  to  them, 
some  of  them  will  tell  you  the  way  to  Shiny  Wall." 

"Well,"  said  Tom,  "it  will  be  a  long  journey,  so  I 
had  better  start  at  once.  Good-bye,  Miss  Ellie;  you 
know  I  am  getting  a  big  boy,  and  I  must  go  out  and 
see  the  world." 

"I  know  you  must,"  said  Ellie;  "but  you  will  not 
forget  me,  Tom.     I  shall  wait  here  till  you  come." 

And  she  shook  hands  with  him,  and  bade  him  good- 
bye. Tom  longed  very  much  again  to  kiss  her;  but 
he  thought  it  would  not  be  respectful,  considering  she 
was  a  lady  born;  so  he  promised  not  to  forget  her: 
but  his  little  whirl-about  of  a  head  was  so  full  of  the 
notion  of  going  out  to  seethe  world,  that  it  forgot  her 
in  five  minutes:  however,  though  his  head  forgot  her, 
I  am  glad  to  say  his  heart  did  not. 

So  he  asked  all  the  beasts  in  the  sea,  and  all  the 
birds  in  the  air,  but  none  of  them  knew  the  way  to 

[268] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 


Shiny  Wall.      For   why?      He   was 
still  too  far  down  south. 

Then  he  met  a  ship,  far  larger 
than  he  had  ever  seen — a  gallant 
ocean-steamer,  with  a  long  cloud 
of  smoke  trailing  behind;  and  he 
wondered  how  she  went  on  without 
sails,  and  swam  up  to  her  to  see. 
A  school  of  dolphins  were  running 
races  round  and  round  her,  going 
three  feet  for  her  one,  and  Tom 
asked  them  the  way  to  Shiny  Wall: 
but  they  did  not  know.  Then  he 
tried  to  find  out  how  she  moved, 
and  at  last  he  saw  her  screw,  and 
was  so  delighted  with  it  that  he 
played  under  her  quarter  all  day, 
till  he  nearly  had  his  nose  knocked 
off  by  the  fans,  and  thought  it  time 
to  move.  Then  he  watched  the 
sailors  upon  deck,  and  the  ladies, 
with  their  bonnets  and  parasols: 
but  none  of   them  could   see   him, 

[269] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


because   their    eyes    were 
not    opened,  —  as,    indeed, 
most  people's  eyes  are  not. 

At    last    there    came    out    into    the 
quarter-gallery  a  very  pretty  lady,  in  deep 
black  widow's  weeds,  and  in  her  arms  a  baby. 
She  leaned  over  the  quarter-gallery,  and  looked 
back  and  back  toward  England  far  away;  and 
as  she  looked  she  sang: 


I. 

"Soft  soft  wind,  from  out  the  sweet  south  sliding, 
Waft  thy  silver  cloud-webs  athwart  the  summer  sea; 
Thin  thin  threads  of  mist  on  dewy  fingers  twining 
Weave  a  veil  of  dappled  gauze  to  shade  my  babe  and  me. 


II. 

"Deep  deep  Love,  within  thine  own  abyss  abiding, 

Pour  Thyself  abroad,  0  Lord,  on  earth  and  air  and  sea; 

Worn  weary  hearts  within  Thy  holy  Temple  hiding, 

Shield  from  sorrow,  sin,  and  shame  my  helpless  babe 

and  me." 

[270] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


Her  voice  was  so  soft  and  low,  and  the  music  of 
the  air  so  sweet,  that  Tom  could  have  listened  to  it 
all  day.  But  as  she  held  the  baby  over  the  gallery 
rail,  to  show  it  the  dolphins  leaping  and  the  water 
gurgling  in  the  ship's  wake,  lo!  and  behold,  the  baby 
saw  Tom. 

He  was  quite  sure  of  that;  for  when  their  eyes 
met,  the  baby  smiled  and  held  out  his  hands;  and 
Tom  smiled  and  held  out  his  hands  too;  and  the  baby 
kicked  and  leaped,  as  if  it  wanted  to  jump  overboard 
to  him. 

"What  do  you  see,  my  darling?"  said 
the  lady;  and  her  eyes  followed  the  baby's 
till  she  too  caught  sight  of  Tom,  swimming 
about  among  the  foam-beads  below. 

She  gave  a  little  shriek  and  start;  and  then 
she  said,  quite  quietly,  "Babies  in  the  sea?  Well, 
perhaps  it  is  the  happiest 
them;"  and  waved  her  hand  1 
and  cried,   "Wait  a  little, 
ling,   only  a  little:   and 
perhaps  we  shall  go  with 
you  and  be  at  rest." 

[271 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

And  at  that  an  old  nurse,  all  in  black,  came  out 
and  talked  to  her,  and  drew  her  in.  And  Tom  turned 
away  northward,  sad  and  wondering;  and  watched  the 
great  steamer  slide  away  into  the  dusk,  and  the  lights 
on  board  peep  out  one  by  one,  and  die  out  again,  and 
the  long  bar  of  smoke  fade  away  into  the  evening 
mist,  till  all  was  out  of  sight. 

And  he  swam  northward  again,  day  after  day,  till 
at  last  he  met  the  King  of  the  Herrings,  with  a  curry- 
comb growing  out  of  his  nose,  and  a  sprat  in  his  mouth 
for  a  cigar,  and  asked  him  the  way  to  Shiny  Wall;  so 
he  bolted  his  sprat  head  foremost,  and  said: 

"If  I  were  you,  young  gentleman,  I  should  go  to 
the  Allalonestone,  and  ask  the  last  of  the  Gairfowl. 
She  is  of  a  very  ancient  clan,  very  nearly  as  ancient 
as  my  own;  and  knows  a  good  deal  which  these 
modern  upstarts  don't,  as  ladies  of  old  houses  are 
likely  to  do." 

Tom  asked  his  way  to  her,  and  the  King  of  the 
Herrings  told  him  very  kindly,  for  he  was  a  courteous 
old  gentleman  of  the  old  school,  though  he  was  horribly 
ugly,  and  strangely  bedizened  too,  like  the  old  dandies 
who  lounge  in  the  club-house  windows. 

[272] 


And  there  he  saw  the  last  of  the  Gairfowl 
standing  up  on  the  All  alone  stone,  all  alone 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

But  just  as  Tom  had  thanked  him  and  set  off,  he 
called  after  him:   "Hi!   I  say,  can  you  fly?" 

"I  never  tried,"  says  Tom.     "Why?" 

"Because,  if  you  can,  I  should  advise  you  to  say 
nothing  to  the  old  lady  about  it.  There;  take  a  hint. 
Good-bye." 

And  away  Tom  went  for  seven  days  and  seven 
nights  due  north-west,  till  he  came  to  a  great  codbank, 
the  like  of  which  he  never  saw  before.  The  great  cod 
lay  below  in  tens  of  thousands,  and  gobbled  shell-fish 
all  day  long;  and  the  blue  sharks  roved  above  in 
hundreds,  and  gobbled  them  when  they  came  up.  So 
they  ate,  and  ate,  and  ate  each  other,  as  they  had  done 
since  the  making  of  the  world;  for  no  man  had  come 
here  yet  to  catch  them,  and  find  out  how  rich  old 
Mother  Carey  is. 

And  there  he  saw  the  last  of  theGairfowl,  standing 
up  on  the  Allalonestone,  all  alone.  And  a  very  grand 
old  lady  she  was,  full  three  feet  high,  and  bolt  upright, 
like  some  old  Highland  chieftainess.  She  had  on  a 
black  velvet  gown,  and  a  white  pinner  and  apron,  and 
a  very  high  bridge  to  her  nose  (which  is  a  sure  mark 
of  high  breeding),  and  a  large  pair  of  white  spectacles 

[273] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

on  it,  which  made  her  look  rather  odd:  but  it  was  the 
ancient  fashion  of  her  house. 

And  instead  of  wings,  she  had  two  little  feathery 
arms,  with  which  she  fanned  herself,  and  complained 
of  the  dreadful  heat;  and  she  kept  on  crooning  an  old 
song  to  herself,  which  she  learnt  when  she  was  a  little 
baby-bird,  long  ago — 


'  Two  little  birds  they  sat  on  a  stone, 
One  swam  away,  and  then  there  was  one, 
With  a  fal-lal-la-lady. 


a 


The  other  swam  after,  and  then  there  was  none, 
And  so  the  poor  stone  was  left  all  alone; 
With  a  fal-lal-la-lady. ' ' 

[274] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

It  was  "flew"  away,  properly,  and  not  "swam" 
away:  but,  as  she  could  not  fly,  she  had  a  right  to 
alter  it.  However,  it  was  a  very  fit  song  for  her  to 
sing,  because  she  was  a  lady  herself. 

Tom  came  up  to  her  very  humbly,  and  made  his 
bow;  and  the  first  thing  she  said  was — 

"Have  you  wings?     Can  you  fly?" 


"Oh,  dear,  no,  ma'am;  I  should  not  think  of  such 
a  thing,"  said  cunning  little  Tom. 

"Then  I  shall  have  great  pleasure  in  talking  to 
you,  my  dear.  It  is  quite  refreshing  nowadays  to  see 
anything  without  wings.  They  must  all  have  wings, 
forsooth,  now,  every  new  upstart  sort  of  bird,  and  fly. 
What  can  they  want  with  flying,  and  raising  them- 

[275] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

selves  above  their  proper  station  in  life?  In  the  days 
of  my  ancestors  no  birds  ever  thought  of  having  wings, 
and  did  very  well  without;  and  now  they  all  laugh  at 
me  because  I  keep  to  the  good  old  fashion.  Why,  the 
very  marrocks  and  dovekies  have  got  wings,  the  vulgar 
creatures,  and  poor  little  ones  enough  they  are;  and 
my  own  cousins  too,  the  razor-bills,  who  are  gentlefolk 
born,  and  ought  to  know  better  than  to  ape  their 
inferiors." 

And  so  she  was  running  on,  while  Tom  tried  to  get 
in  a  word  edgeways;  and  at  last  he  did,  when  the  old 
lady  got  out  of  breath,  and  began  fanning  herself  again; 
and  then  he  asked  if  she  knew  the  way  to  Shiny  Wall. 

"Shiny  Wall?  Who  should  know  better  than  I? 
We  all  came  from  Shiny  Wall,  thousands  of  years  ago, 
when  it  was  decently  cold,  and  the  climate  was  fit  for 
gentlefolk;  but  now,  what  with  the  heat,  and  what 
with  these  vulgar-winged  things  who  fly  up  and  down 
and  eat  everything,  so  that  gentlepeople's  hunting  is 
all  spoilt,  and  one  really  cannot  get  one's  living,  or 
hardly  venture  off  the  rock  for  fear  of  being  flown 
against  by  some  creature  that  would  not  have  dared 
to  come  within  a  mile  of  one  a  thousand  years  ago — 

[276] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

what  was  I  saying?  Why,  we  have  quite  gone  down 
in  the  world,  my  dear,  and  have  nothing  left  but  our 
honour.  And  I  am  the  last  of  my  family.  A  friend 
of  mine  and  I  came  and  settled  on  this  rock  when  we 
were  young,  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  low  people.  Once 
we  were  a  great  nation,  and  spread  over  all  the  Northern 
Isles.  But  men  shot  us  so,  and  knocked  us  on  the 
head,  and  took  our  eggs — why,  if  you  will  believe  it, 
they  say  that  on  the  coast  of  Labrador  the  sailors  used 
to  lay  a  plank  from  the  rock  on  board  the  thing  called 
their  ship,  and  drive  us  along  the  plank  by  hundreds, 
till  we  tumbled  down  into  the  ship's  waist  in  heaps; 
and  then,  I  suppose,  they  ate  us,  the  nasty  fellows! 
Well — but — what  was  I  saying?  At  last,  there  were 
none  of  us  left,  except  on  the  old  Gairfowlskerry,  just 
off  the  Iceland  coast,  up  which  no  man  could  climb. 
Even  there  we  had  no  peace;  for  one  day,  when  I  was 
quite  a  young  girl,  the  land  rocked,  and  the  sea  boiled, 
and  the  sky  grew  dark,  and  all  the  air  was  filled  with 
smoke  and  dust,  and  down  tumbled  the  old  Gairfowl- 
skerry into  the  sea.  The  dovekies  and  marrocks,  of 
course,  all  flew  away;  but  we  were  too  proud  to  do 
that.     Some  of  us  were  dashed  to  pieces,  and  some 

[277] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

drowned;  and  those  who  were  left  got  away  to  Eldey, 
and  the  dovekies  tell  me  they  are  all  dead  now,  and 
that  another  Gairfowlskerry  has  risen  out  of  the  sea 
close  to  the  old  one,  but  that  it  is  such  a  poor  flat  place 
that  it  is  not  safe  to  live  on:  and  so  here  I  am  left 
alone." 

This  was  the  Gairfowl's  story,  and,  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  it  is  every  word  of  it  true. 

"If  you  only  had  had  wings!"  said  Tom;  "then 
you  might  all  have  flown  away  too." 

"Yes,  young  gentleman:  and  if  people  are  not 
gentlemen  and  ladies,  and  forget  that  noblesse  oblige, 
they  will  find  it  as  easy  to  get  on  in  the  world  as  other 
people  who  don't  care  what  they  do.  Why,  if  I  had 
not  recollected  that  noblesse  oblige,  I  should  not  have 
been  all  alone  now."     And  the  poor  old  lady  sighed. 

"How  was  that,  ma'am?" 

"Why,  my  dear,  a  gentleman  came  hither  with  me, 
and  after  we  had  been  here  some  time,  he  wanted  to 


[278] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


f 


marry — in  fact,  he  actually  proposed  to  me.  Well,  I 
can't  blame  him;  I  was  young,  and  very  handsome 
then,  I  don't  deny:  but,  you  see,  I  could  not  hear  of 
such  a  thing,  because  he  was  my  deceased  sister's 
husband,  you  see?" 

"Of  course  not,  ma'am,"  said  Tom;  though,  of 
course,  he  knew  nothing  about  it.  "She  was  very 
much  diseased,  I  suppose?" 

"You  do  not  understand  me,  my  dear.  I  mean, 
that  being  a  lady,  and  with  right  and  honourable 
feelings,  as  our  house  always  has  had,  I  felt  it  my  duty 
to  snub  him,  and  howk  him,  and  peck  him  continually, 
to  keep  him  at  his  proper  distance;  and,  to  tell  the 
truth,  I  once  pecked  him  a  little  too  hard,  poor  fellow, 
and  he  tumbled  backwards  off  the  rock,  and — really, 
it  was  very  unfortunate,  but  it  was  not  my  fault — a 

[279] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

shark  coming  by  saw  him  flapping,  and  snapped  him 
up.     And  since  then  I  have  lived  all  alone 

'  With  a  fal-lal-la-lady. ' 

And  soon  I  shall  be  gone,  my  little  dear,  and  nobody 
will  miss  me;  and  then  the  poor  stone  will  be  left  all 
alone." 

"But,  please,  which  is  the  way  to  Shiny  Wall?" 
said  Tom. 

"Oh,  you  must  go,  my  little  dear — you  must  go. 
Let  me  see — I  am  sure — that  is — really,  my  poor  old 
brains  are  getting  quite  puzzled.  Do  you  know,  my 
little  dear,  I  am  afraid,  if  you  want  to  know,  you  must 
ask  some  of  these  vulgar  birds  about,  for  I  have  quite 
forgotten." 

And  the  poor  old  Gairfowl  began  to  cry  tears  of 
pure  oil;  and  Tom  was  quite  sorry  for  her;  and  for 
himself  too,  for  he  was  at  his  wit's  end  whom  to  ask. 

But  by  there  came  a  flock  of  petrels,  who  are 
Mother  Carey's  own  chickens;  and  Tom  thought  them 
much  prettier  than  Lady  Gairfowl,  and  so  perhaps  they 
were;  for  Mother  Carey  had  had  a  great  deal  of  fresh 
experience   between   the   time   that  she  invented   the 

[280] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

Gairfowl  and  the  time  that  she  invented  them.  They 
flitted  along  like  a  flock  of  black  swallows,  and  hopped 
and  skipped  from  wave  to  wave,  lifting  up  their  little 
feet  behind  them  so  daintily,  and  whistling  to  each 
other  so  tenderly,  that  Tom  fell  in  love  with  them  at 
once,  and  called  them  to  know  the  way  to  Shiny  Wall. 

"Shiny  Wall?  Do  you  want  Shiny  Wall?  Then 
come  with  us,  and  we  will  show  you.  We  are  Mother 
Carey's  own  chickens,  and  she  sends  us  out  over  all 
the  seas,  to  show  the  good  birds  the  way  home." 

Tom  was  delighted,  and  swam  off  to  them,  after  he 
had  made  his  bow  to  the  Gairfowl.  But  she  would 
not  return  his  bow:  but  held  herself  bolt  upright,  and 
wept  tears  of  oil  as  she  sang: 

"And  so  the  poor  stone  was  left  all  alone; 
With  a  fal-lal-la-lady. 

But  she  was  wrong  there;  for  the  stone  was  not 
left  all  alone:  and  the  next  time  that  Tom  goes  by  it, 
he  will  see  a  sight  worth  seeing. 

The  old  Gairfowl  is  gone  already:  but  there  are 
better  things  come  in  her  place;  and  when  Tom  comes 
he  will  see  the  fishing-smacks  anchored  there  in  hun- 

[281] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


dreds,  from  Scotland,  and 
from  Ireland,  and  from  the 
Orkneys,  and  the  Shetlands, 
and  from  all  the  Northern 
ports,  full  of  the  children  of 
the  old  Norse  Vikings,  the 
masters  of  the  sea.  And  the 
men  will  be  hauling  in  the 
great  cod  by  thousands,  till 
their  hands  are  sore  from 
the  lines;  and  they  will  be 
making  cod-liver  oil  and 
guano,  and  salting  down  the 
fish;  and  there  will  be  a  man- 
of-war  steamer  there  to  pro- 
tect them,  and  a  lighthouse 
to  show  them  the  way;  and 
you  and  I,  perhaps,  shall  go 
some  day  to  the  Allalonestone 
to  the"  great  summer  sea-fair, 
and  dredge  strange  creatures 
such  as  man  never  saw  be- 
fore; and  we  shall  hear  the 
[282] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

sailors  boast  that  it  is  not  the  worst  jewel  in  Queen 
Victoria's  crown,  for  there  are  eighty  miles  of  codbank, 
and  food  for  all  the  poor  folk  in  the  land.  That  is 
what  Tom  will  see,  and  perhaps  you  and  I  shall  see  it 
too.  And  then  we  shall  not  be  sorry,  because  we  can- 
not get  a  Gairfowl  to  stuff,  much  less  find  gairfowl 
enough  to  drive  them  into  stone  pens  and  slaughter 
them,  as  the  old  Norsemen  did,  or  drive  them  on  board 
along  a  plank  till  the  ship  was  victualled  with  them, 
as  the  old  English  and  French  rovers  used  to  do,  of 
whom  dear  old  Hakluyt  tells:  but  we  shall  remember 
what  Mr.  Tennyson  says:  how 

"The  old  order  changeth,  giving  place  to  the  new, 
And  God  fulfils  himself  in  many  ways." 

And  now  Tom  was  all  agog  to  start  for  Shiny 
Wall;  but  the  petrels  said  not.  They  must  go  first  to 
Allfowlsness,  and  wait  there  for  the  great  gathering  of 
all  the  sea-birds,  before  they  start  for  their  summer 
breeding-places  far  away  in  the  Northern  Isles;  and 
there  they  would  be  sure  to  find  some  birds  which 
were  going  to  Shiny  Wall:  but  where  Allfowlsness  was, 
he  must  promise  never  to  tell,  lest  men  should  go 

[283] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

there  and  shoot  the  birds,  and  stuff  them,  and  put 
them  into  stupid  museums,  instead  of  leaving  them 
to  play  and  breed  and  work  in  Mother  Carey's  water- 
garden,  where  they  ought  to  be. 

So  where  Allfowlsness  is  nobody  must  know;  and 
all  that  is  to  be  said  about  it  is,  that  Tom  waited 
there  many  days;  and  as  he  waited,  he  saw  a  very 
curious  sight.  On  the  rabbit  burrows  on  the  shore 
there  gathered  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  hoodie-crows, 
such  as  you  see  in  Cambridgeshire.  And  they  made 
such  a  noise,  that  Tom  came  on  shore  and  went  up  to 
see  what  was  the  matter. 

And  there  he  found  them  holding  their  great  caucus, 
which  they  hold  every  year  in  the  North;  and  all  their 
stump-orators  were  speechifying;  and  for  a  tribune,  the 
speaker  stood  on  an  old  sheep's  skull. 

And  they  cawed  and  cawed,  and  boasted  of  all  the 
clever  things  they  had  done;  how  many  lambs'  eyes 
they  had  picked  out,  and  how  many  dead  bullocks 
they  had  eaten,  and  how  many  young  grouse  they  had 
swallowed  whole,  and  how  many  grouse-eggs  they  had 
flown  away  with,  stuck  on  the  point  of  their  bills, 
which  is  the  hoodie-crow's  particularly  clever  feat,  of 

[284] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

which  he  is  as  proud  as  a  gipsy  is  of  doing  the  hokany- 
baro;  and  what  that  is,  I  won't  tell  you. 

And  at  last  they  brought  out  the  prettiest,  neatest 
young  lady-crow  that  ever  was  seen,  and  set  her  in 
the  middle,  and  all  began  abusing  and  vilifying,  and 
rating,  and  bullyragging  at  her,  because  she  had  stolen 
no  grouse-eggs,  and  had  actually  dared  to  say  that  she 
would  not  steal  any.  So  she  was  to  be  tried  publicly 
by  their  laws  (for  the  hoodies  always  try  some  offenders 
in  their  great  yearly  parliament).  And  there  she  stood 
in  the  middle,  in  her  black  gown  and  gray  hood, 
looking  as  meek  and  as  neat  as  a  Quakeress,  and  they 
all  bawled  at  her  at  once — 

And  it  was  in  vain  that  she  pleaded — 

That  she  did  not  like  grouse-eggs; 

That  she  could  get  her  living  very  well  without 

them; 
That  she  was  afraid  to  eat  them,  for  fear  of  the 

gamekeepers; 
That  she  had  not  the  heart  to  eat  them,  because  the 

grouse  were  such  pretty,  kind,  jolly  birds; 
And  a  dozen  reasons  more. 

[285] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

For  all  the  other 
scaul-crows  set  upon  her, 
and  pecked  her  to  death 
there  and  then,  before 
Tom  could  come  to  help 
her;  and  then  flew  away, 
very  proud  of  what  they 
had  done. 

Now,  was  not  this  a 
scandalous  transaction? 
But  they  are  true  republicans,  these  hoodies,  who 
do  every  one  just  what  he  likes,  and  make  other  people 
do  so  too;  so  that,  for  any  freedom  of  speech,  thought, 
or  action,  which  is  allowed  among  them,  they  might 
as  well  be  American  citizens  of  the  new  school. 

But  the  fairies  took  the  good  crow,  and  gave  her 
nine  new  sets  of  feathers  running,  and  turned  her  at 
last  into  the  most  beautiful  bird  of  paradise  with  a 
green    velvet    suit     and     a 
long  tail,   and   sent   her   to 
eat  fruit    in    the    Spice   Isl- 
ands, where  cloves  and  nut- 
megs grow. 

[286] 


?x 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

And  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid  settled  her  account 
with  the  wicked  hoodies.  For,  as  they  flew  away, 
what  should  they  find  but  a  nasty  dead  dog? — on 
which  they  all  set  to  work,  pecking  and  gobbling  and 
cawing  and  quarrelling  to  their  hearts'  content.  But 
the  moment  afterwards,  they  all  threw  up  their  bills 
into  the  air,  and  gave  one  screech;  and  then  turned 
head  over  heels  backward,  and  fell  down  dead,  one 
hundred  and  twenty-three  of  them  at  once.  For  why? 
The  fairy  had  told  the  gamekeeper  in  a  dream,  to 
fill  the  dead  dog  full  of  strychnine;  and  so  he  did. 

And  after  a  while  the  birds  began  to  gather  at 
Allfowlsness,  in  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands, 
blackening  all  the  air;  swans  and  brant  geese,  harle- 
quins and  eiders,  harolds  and  garganeys,  smews  and 
gossanders,  divers  and  loons,  grebes  and  dovekies,  auks 
and  razor-bills,  gannets  and  petrels,  skuas  and  terns, 
with  gulls  beyond  all  naming  or  numbering;  and  they 
paddled  and  washed  and  splashed  and  combed  and 
brushed  themselves  on  the  sand,  till  the  shore  was 
white  with  feathers;  and  they  quacked  and  clucked 
and  gabbled  and  chattered  and  screamed  and  whooped 
as  they  talked  over  matters  with  their  friends,  and 

[287] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

settled  where  they  were  to  go  and  breed  that  summer, 
till  you  might  have  heard  them  ten  miles  off;  and 
lucky  it  was  for  them  that  there  was  no  one  to  hear 
them  but  the  old  keeper,  who  lived  all  alone  upon 
the  Ness,  in  a  turf  hut  thatched  with  heather  and 
fringed  round  with  great  stones  slung  across  the  roof 
by  bent-ropes,  lest  the  winter  gales  should  blow  the 
hut  right  away.  But  he  never  minded  the  birds  nor 
hurt  them,  because  they  were  not  in  season;  indeed, 
he  minded  but  two  things  in  the  whole  world,  and 
those  were,  his  Bible  and  his  grouse;  for  he  was  as 
good  an  old  Scotchman  as  ever  knit  stockings  on  a 
winter's  night:  only,  when  all  the  birds  were  going, 
he  toddled  out,  and  took  off  his  cap  to  them,  and 
wished  them  a  merry  journey  and  a  safe  return;  and 
then  gathered  up  all  the  feathers  which  they  had  left, 
and  cleaned  them  to  sell  down  south,  and  make  feather- 
beds  for  stuffy  people  to  lie  on. 

Then  the  petrels  asked  this  bird  and  that  whether 
they  would  take  Tom  to  Shiny  Wall:  but  one  set  was 
going  to  Sutherland,  and  one  to  the  Shetlands,  and 
one  to  Norway,  and  one  to  Spitzbergen,  and  one  to 
Iceland,  and  one  to  Greenland:  but  none  would  go  to 

[288] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Shiny  Wall.  So  the  good-natured  petrels  said  that 
they  would  show  him  part  of  the  way  themselves,  but 
they  were  only  going  as  far  as  Jan  Maven's  Land;  and 
after  that  he  must  shift  for  himself. 

And  then  all  the  birds  rose  up,  and  streamed  away 
in  long  black  lines,  north,  and  north-east,  and  north- 
west, across  the  bright  blue  summer  sky;    and  their 


cry  was  like  ten  thousand  packs  of  hounds,  and  ten 
thousand  peals  of  bells.  Only  the  puffins  stayed  be- 
hind, and  killed  the  young  rabbits,  and  laid  their 
eggs  in  the  rabbit-burrows;  which  was  rough  practice, 
certainly;  but  a  man  must  see  to  his  own  family. 

And,  as  Tom  and  the  petrels  went  north-eastward, 
it  began  to  blow  right  hard;  for  the  old  gentleman  in 

[289] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

the  gray  great-coat,  who  looks  after  the  big  copper 
boiler,  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  had  got  behindhand  with 
his  work;  so  Mother  Carey  had  sent  an  electric  message 
to  him  for  more  steam;  and  now  the  steam  was  coming, 
as  much  in  an  hour  as  ought  to  have  come  in  a  week, 
puffing  and  roaring  and  swishing  and  swirling,  till 
you  could  not  see  where  the  sky  ended  and  the  sea 
began.  But  Tom  and  the  petrels  never  cared,  for  the 
gale  was  right  abaft,  and  away  they  went  over  the 
crests  of  the  billows,  as  merry  as  so  many  flying- 
fish. 

And  at  last  they  saw  an  ugly  sight — the  black 
side  of  a  great  ship,  water-logged  in  the  trough  of  the 
sea.  Her  funnel  and  her  masts  were  overboard,  and 
swayed  and  surged  under  her  lee;  her  decks  were  swept 
as  clean  as  a  barn  floor,  and  there  was  no  living  soul 
on  board. 

The  petrels  flew  up  to  her,  and  wailed  round  her; 
for  they  were  very  sorry  indeed,  and  also  they  expected 
to  find  some  salt  pork;  and  Tom  scrambled  on  board 
of  her  and  looked  round,  frightened  and  sad. 

And  there,  in  a  little  cot,  lashed  tight  under  the 
bulwark,  lay  a  baby  fast  asleep;   the  very  same  baby, 

[290] 


It  took  the  form  of  the  grandest  old  lady  he 
had  ever  seen 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


Tom  saw  at  once,  which  he 
had  seen  in  the  singing  lady's 
arms. 

He  went  up  to  it,  and 
wanted  to  wake  it;  but  be- 
hold, from  under  the  cot  out 
jumped  a  little  black  and  tan 
terrier  dog,  and  began  bark- 
ing and  snapping  at  Tom, 
and  would  not  let  him  touch 
the  cot. 

Tom  knew  the  dog's  teeth 
could  not  hurt  him:  but  at  least  it  could  shove  him 
away,   and   did;    and  he  and   the    dog    fought   and 
struggled,  for  he  wanted  to  help  the  baby,  and  did 
not  want  to  throw  the  poor  dog  overboard:    but  as 

they  were  struggling,  there 
came  a  tall  green  sea,  and 
walked  in  over  the  weather 
side  of  the  ship,  and  swept 
them  all  into  the  waves. 

"Oh,  the  baby,  the  baby!" 
screamed  Tom:    but  the   next 
[291] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

moment  he  did  not  scream  at  all;  for  he  saw  the 
cot  settling  down  through  the  green  water,  with 
the  baby,  smiling  in  it,  fast  asleep;  and  he  saw  the 
fairies  come  up  from  below,  and  carry  baby  and  cradle 
gently  down  in  their  soft  arms;  and  then  he  knew  it 
was  all  right,  and  that  there  would  be  a  new  water- 
baby  in  St.  Brandan's  Isle. 

And  the  poor  little  dog? 

Why,  after  he  had  kicked  and  coughed  a  little,  he 
sneezed  so  hard,  that  he  sneezed  himself  clean  out  of 
his  skin,  and  turned  into  a  water-dog,  and  jumped  and 
danced  round  Tom,  and  ran  over  the  crests  of  the 
waves,  and  snapped  at  the  jelly-fish  and  the  mackerel, 
and  followed  Tom  the  whole  way  to  the  Other-end-of- 
Nowhere. 

Then  they  went  on  again,  till  they  began  to  see 
the  peak  of  Jan  Mayen's  Land,  standing  up  like  a 
white  sugar-loaf,  two  miles  above  the  clouds. 

And  there  they  fell  in  with  a  whole  flock  of  molly- 
mocks,  who  were  feeding  on  a  dead  whale. 

"These  are  the  fellows  to  show  you  the  way,"  said 
Mother  Carey's  chickens;  "we  cannot  help  you  farther 
north.     We  don't  like  to  get  among  the  ice  pack,  for 

[292] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


fear  it  should  nip  our  toes:    but 
the  mollys  dare  fly  anywhere." 

So  the  petrels  called  to  the 
mollys:  but  they  were  so  busy  and 
greedy,  gobbling  and  pecking  and 
spluttering  and  fighting  over  the 
blubber,  that  they  did  not  take 
the  least  notice. 

"Come,    come,"    said    the 
petrels,    "you   lazy  greedy   lub- 
bers,   this  young   gentleman  is 
going  to  Mother  Carey,  and 
if  you  don't  attend  on  him, 
you  won't  earn   your   dis- 
charge     from      her,      you 
know." 

"Greedy  we  are,"  says 
a  great  fat  old  molly,  "but 
lazy  we  ain't;  and,  as  for 
lubbers,  we're  no  more 
lubbers  than  you.  Let's 
have  a  look  at  the  lad." 

And   he  flapped  right 

[293] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


into  Tom's  face,  and  stared  at  him  in  the  most 
impudent  way  (for  the  mollys  are  audacious  fellows, 
as  all  whalers  know),  and  then  asked  him  where  he 
hailed  from,  and  what  land  he  sighted  last. 

And,  when  Tom  told  him,  he  seemed  pleased,  and 
said  he  was  a  good  plucked  one  to  have  got  so  far. 

"Come  along,  lads,"  he  said  to  the  rest,  "and 
give  this  little  chap  a  cast  over  the  pack,  for  Mother 
Carey's  sake.  We've  eaten  blubber  enough  for  to-day, 
and  we'll  e'en  work  out  a  bit  of  our  time  by  helping 
the  lad." 

So  the  mollys  took  Tom  up  on  their  backs,  and 
flew  off  with  him,  laughing  and  joking — and  oh,  how 
they  did  smell  of  train  oil! 

[294] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Who  are  you,  you  jolly  birds?"  asked  Tom. 

"We  are  the  spirits  of  the  old  Greenland  skippers 
(as  every  sailor  knows),  who  hunted  here,  right  whales 
and  horse-whales,  full  hundreds  of  years  agone.  But, 
because  we  were  saucy  and  greedy,  we  were  all  turned 
into  mollys,  to  eat  whale's  blubber  all  our  days.  But 
lubbers  we  are  none,  and  could  sail  a  ship  now  against 
any  man  in  the  North  seas,  though  we  don't  hold  with 
this  new-fangled  steam.  And  it's  a  shame  of  those 
black  imps  of  petrels  to  call  us  so;  but  because  they're 
her  grace's  pets,  they  think  they  may  say  anything 
they  like." 

"And  who  are  you?"  asked  Tom  of  him,  for  he 
saw  that  he  was  the  king  of  all  the  birds. 

"My  name  is  Hendrick  Hudson,  and  a  right  good 
skipper  was  I;  and  my  name  will  last  to  the  world's 
end,  in  spite  of  all  the  wrong  I  did.  For  I  discovered 
Hudson  River,  and  I  named  Hudson's  Bay;  and  many 
have  come  in  my  wake  that  dared  not  have  shown  me 
the  way.  But  I  was  a  hard  man  in  my  time,  that's 
truth,  and  stole  the  poor  Indians  off  the  coast  of  Maine, 
and  sold  them  for  slaves  down  in  Virginia;  and  at 
last  I  was  so  cruel  to  my  sailors,  here  in  these  very 

[295] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

seas,  that  they  set  me  adrift  in  an  open  boat,  and  I 
never  was  heard  of  more.  So  now  I'm  the  king  of  all 
mollys,  till  I've  worked  out  my  time." 

And  now  they  came  to  the  edge  of  the  pack,  and 
beyond  it  they  could  see  Shiny  Wall  looming,  through 
mist,  and  snow,  and  storm.  But  the  pack  rolled 
horribly  upon  the  swell,  and  the  ice  giants  fought  and 
roared,  and  leapt  upon  each  other's  backs,  and  ground 
each  other  to  powder,  so  that  Tom  was  afraid  to 
venture  among  them,  lest  he  should  be  ground  to 
powder  too.  And  he  was  the  more  afraid,  when  he 
saw  lying  among  the  ice  pack  the  wrecks  of  many  a 
gallant  ship;  some  with  masts  and  yards  all  standing, 
some  with  the  seamen  frozen  fast  on  board.  Alas, 
alas,  for  them!  They  were  all  true  English  hearts; 
and  they  came  to  their  end  like  good  knights-errant, 
in  searching  for  the  white  gate  that  never  was  opened 

4- 

But  the  good  mollys  took  Tom  and  his  dog  up,  and 
flew  with  them  safe  over  the  pack  and  the  roaring  ice 
giants,  and  set  them  down  at  the  foot  of  Shiny  Wall. 

"And  where  is  the  gate?"  asked  Tom. 

"There  is  no  gate,"  said  the  mollys. 

[296] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


"No  gate?"  cried  Tom,  aghast. 

"None;  never  a  crack  of  one,  and  that's  the  whole 
of  the  secret,  as  better  fellows,  lad,  than  you  have 
found  to  their  cost;  and  if  there  had  been,  they'd  have 
killed  by  now  every  right  whale  that  swims  the  sea." 

"What  am  I  to  do,  then?" 

"Dive  under  the  floe,  to  be  sure,  if  you  have  pluck." 

"I've  not  come  so  far  to  turn  now,"  said  Tom;  "so 
here  goes  for  a  header. 

"A  lucky  voyage  to  you,  lad,"  said  the  mollys;  "we 
knew  you  were  one  of  the  right  sort.     So  good-bye." 

"Why  don't  you  come  too?"  asked  Tom. 

But  the  mollys  only  wailed  sadly,  "We  can't  go 
yet,  we  can't  go  yet,"  and  flew  away  over  the  pack. 

So  Tom  dived  under  the  great  white  gate  which 

[297] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

never  was  opened  yet,  and  went  on  in  black  darkness, 
at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  for  seven  days  and  seven 
nights.  And  yet  he  was  not  a  bit  frightened.  Why 
should  he  be?  He  was  a  brave  English  lad,  whose 
business  is  to  go  out  and  see  all  the  world. 

And  at  last  he  saw  the  light,  and  clear  clear  water 
overhead;  and  up  he  came  a  thousand  fathoms,  among 
clouds  of  sea-moths,  which  fluttered  round  his  head. 
There  were  moths  with  pink  heads  and  wings  and  opal 
bodies,  that  flapped  about  slowly;  moths  with  brown 
wings  that  flapped  about  quickly;  yellow  shrimps  that 
hopped  and  skipped  most  quickly  of  all;  and  jellies  of 
all  the  colors  in  the  world,  that  neither  hopped  nor 
skipped,  but  only  dawdled  and  yawned,  and  would  not 
get  out  of  his  way.  The  dog  snapped  at  them  till  his 
jaws  were  tired;  but  Tom  hardly  minded  them  at  all, 
he  was  so  eager  to  get  to  the  top  of  the  water,  and  see 
the  pool  where  the  good  whales  go. 

And  a  very  large  pool  it  was,  miles  and  miles 
across,  though  the  air  was  so  clear  that  the  ice  cliffs 


[298] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

on  the  opposite  side  looked  as  if  they  were  close  at 
hand.  All  round  it  the  ice  cliffs  rose,  in  walls  and 
spires  and  battlements,  and  caves  and  bridges,  and 
stories  and  galleries,  in  which  the  ice-fairies  live,  and 
drive  away  the  storms  and  clouds,  that  Mother  Carey's 
pool  may  lie  calm  from  year's  end  to  year's  end.  And 
the  sun  acted  policeman,  and  walked  round  outside 
every  day,  peeping  just  over  the  top  of  the  ice  wall,  to 
see  that  all  went  right;  and  now  and  then  he  played 
conjuring  tricks,  or  had  an  exhibition  of  fireworks,  to 
amuse  the  ice-fairies.  For  he  would  make  himself  into 
four  or  five  suns  at  once,  or  paint  the  sky  with  rings 
and  crosses  and  crescents  of  white  fire,  and  stick  him- 
self in  the  middle  of  them,  and  wink  at  the  fairies; 
and  I  daresay  they  were  very  much  amused;  for  any- 
thing's  fun  in  the  country. 

And  there  the  good  whales  lay,  the  happy  sleepy 
beasts,  upon  the  still  oily  sea.  They  were  all  right 
whales,  you  must  know,  and  finners,  and  razor-backs, 
and  bottle-noses,  and  spotted  sea-unicorns  with  long 
ivory  horns.  But  the  sperm  whales  are  such  raging, 
ramping,  roaring,  rumbustious  fellows,  that,  if  Mother 
Carey  let  them  in,  there  would  be  no  more  peace  in 

[299] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

Peacepool.  So  she  packs  them  away  in  a 
great  pond  by  themselves  at  the  South 
Pole,  two  hundred  and  sixty-three  miles 
south-south-east  of  Mount  Erebus,  the 
great  volcano  in  the  ice;  and  there  they 
butt  each  other  with  their  ugly  noses,  day 
and  night  from  year's  end  to  year's  end. 

But  here  there  were  only  good  quiet 
beasts,  lying  about  like  the  black  hulls  of 
sloops,  and  blowing  every  now  and  then 
jets  of  white  steam,  or  sculling  round  with 
their  huge  mouths  open,  for  the  sea-moths 
to  swim  down  their  throats.      There  were 

1  ---\5    «      u 

o  ^6  '*/  no  threshers  there  to  thresh  their  poor  old 

(°'~s  Op:  \J.  backs,  or  sword-fish    to    stab   their  stom- 

W  lyJ    *%\  achs,  or  saw-fish  to  rip  them  up,    or  ice- 

it  t OP  5  sharks  to  bite  lumps  out  of  their  sides,  or 

f  «^l*  #1  whalers  to  harpoon  and  lance  them.      They 

y(0  c/  were  Qmte  safe   and   happy  there;   and  all 


St*1! 
3       > 


oi 


» t 


o 


}/u  j?  they  had  to  do  was  to  wait  quietly  in  Peace- 

[300] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


pool,  till  Mother  Carey  sent  for  them  to  make  them 
out  of  old  beasts  into  new. 

Tom  swam  up  to  the  nearest  whale,  and  asked  the 
way  to  Mother  Carey. 

"There  she  sits  in  the  middle,"  said  the  whale. 

Tom  looked;    but  he  could  see  nothing  in  the 

middle  of  the  pool,  but  one  peaked  iceberg;    and  he 

said  so. 

"That's  Mother  Carey,"  said  the  whale,  "as  you 

will  find  when  you  get  to  her.     There  she  sits  making 

old  beasts  into  new  all  the  year  round." 

"How  does  she  do  that?" 

"That's  her  concern,  not  mine,"  said  the  old  whale; 
and  yawned  so  wide  (for  he  was  very  large)  that  there  o 
swam  into  his  mouth  943  sea-moths,  13,846  jelly-fish 
no  bigger  than  pins'  heads,  a  string  of  salpae  nine  yards 
long,  and  forty-three  little  ice-crabs,  who  gave  each 
other  a  parting  pinch  all  round,  tucked  their  legs  under 

[301] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


their  stomachs,  and  determined  to  die  de- 
cently, like  Julius  Caesar. 

"I  suppose,"  said  Tom,  "she  cuts  up  a 
great  whale  like  you  into  a  whole  shoal  of 
porpoises?" 

At  which  the  old  whale  laughed  so 
violently  that  he  coughed  up 
all  the  creatures;   who  swam 
away  again  very  thankful  at 
having  escaped   out   of   that 
terrible  whalebone  net  of  his, 
from  which  bourne  no  trav- 
eller returns;   and  Tom  went 
on  to  the  iceberg,  wondering. 
And,  when  he  came  near 
took  the  form  of  the  grandest 
lady  he  had  ever   seen — a  white 
marble  lady,  sitting  on  a  white  marble 
throne.      And   from  the  foot  of    the 
throne  there  swum  away,  out  and  out 
into  the  sea,  millions  of  new-born  crea- 
tures, of  more  shapes  and  colours  than 
man    ever    dreamed.       And    they  were 
[302] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


Mother    Carey's      children,    whom    she 
makes  out  of  the  sea-water  all  day  long. 

He   expected,    of    course — like    some 
grown    people    who    ought    to     know 
better — to   find   her  snipping,  piecing, 
fitting,  stitching,  cobbling,  basting, 
filing,    planing,    hammering, 
turning,    polishing,    mould- 
ing,    measuring,     chiselling, 
clipping,    and    so    forth,    as 
men  do  when  they  go  to  work 
to  make  anything. 

But,  instead  of  that,  she 
sat  quite  still  with  her  chin 
upon     her     hand,     looking 
down  into  the  sea  with  two 
great  grand  blue  eyes,  as  blue  as  the 
sea  itself.     Her  hair  was  as  white  as 
the  snow — for  she  was  very  very  old 
—  in    fact,    as    old    as    anything    which 
you    are    likely    to    come    across,    except 
the     difference      between       right      and 
wrong. 

[303] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


And,  when  she  saw  Tom,  she  looked  at  him  very 
kindly. 

"What  do  you  want,  my  little  man?  It  is  long 
since  I  have  seen  a  water-baby  here." 

Tom  told  her  his  errand,  and  asked  the  way  to  the 
Other-end-of-Nowhere. 

"You  ought  to  know  yourself,  for  you  have  been 
there  already." 

"Have  I,  ma'am?     I'm  sure  I  forget  all  about  it." 

"Then  look  at  me."  And,  as  Tom  looked  into 
her  great  blue  eyes,  he  recollected  the  way  perfectly. 

Now,  was  not  that  strange? 

"Thank  you,  ma'am,"  said  Tom.  "Then  I  won't 
trouble  your  ladyship  any  more;  I  hear  you  are  very 
busy." 

"I  am  never  more    busy  than   I  am   now,"  she 

said,  without  stirring  a  finger. 
'I  heard,  ma'am,  that 
you  were  always  making  new 
beasts  out  of  old." 

~  ^<C~^\        '^°  PeoPle  ^an" 

W)^^^^^^ar^     cy-    But 


I  am  not 


[304] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

going  to  trouble  myself  to 
make  things,  my  little  dear. 
I  sit  here  and  make  them 
make  themselves." 

"You  are  a  clever  fairy,  in- 
deed," thought  Tom.  And  he 
was  quite  right. 

That  is  a  grand  trick  of  good  old  Mother  Carey's, 
and  a  grand  answer,  which  she  has  had  occasion  to 
make  several  times  to  impertinent  people. 

There  was  once,  for  instance,  a  fairy  who  was  so 
clever  that  she  found  out  how  to  make  butterflies.  I 
don't  mean  sham  ones;  no:  but  real  live  ones,  which 
would  fly,  and  eat,  and  lay  eggs,  and  do  everything 
that  they  ought;  and  she  was  so  proud  of  her  skill 
that  she  went  flying  straight  off  to  the  North  Pole,  to 
boast  to  Mother  Carey  how  she  could  make  butterflies. 

But  Mother  Carey  laughed. 

"Know,  silly  child,"  she  said,  "that  any  one  can 
make  things,  if  they  will  take  time  and  trouble  enough: 
but  it  is  not  every  one  who,  like  me,  can  make  things 
make  themselves." 

But  people  do  not  yet  believe  that  Mother  Carey 

[305] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

is  as  clever  as  all  that  comes  to;  and  they  will  not  till 
they,  too,  go  the  journey  to  the  Other-end-of-Nowhere. 

"And  now,  my  pretty  little  man,"  said  Mother 
Carey,  "you  are  sure  you  know  the  way  to  the  Other- 
end-of-Nowhere?" 

Tom  thought;  and  behold,  he  had  forgotten  it 
utterly. 

"That  is  because  you  took  your  eyes  off  me." 

Tom  looked  at  her  again,  and  recollected;  and  then 
looked  away,  and  forgot  in  an  instant. 

"But  what  am  I  to  do,  ma'am?  For  I  can't  keep 
looking  at  you  when  I  am  somewhere  else." 

"You  must  do  without  me,  as  most  people  have  to 
do,  for  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  thousandths  of 
their  lives;  and  look  at  the  dog  instead;  for  he  knows 
the  way  well  enough,  and  will  not  forget  it.  Besides, 
you  may  meet  some  very  queer-tempered  people  there, 
who  will  not  let  you  pass  without  this  passport  of 
mine,  which  you  must  hang  round  your  neck  and 
take  care  of;  and,  of  course,  as  the  dog  will  always  go 
behind  you,  you  must  go  the  whole  way  backward." 

"Backward!"  cried  Tom.  "Then  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  see  my  way." 

[306] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


"On    the    contrary,   if    you  look 
forward,  you  will  not  see  a  step  before 
you,  and  be  certain  to  go  wrong; 
but,    if    you    look   behind    you, 
and  watch  carefully  what- 
ever you  have  passed, 
and  especially  keep  your 
eye    on    the    dog,    who 
goes    by    instinct,    and 
therefore  can't  go  wrong, 
then  you  will  know  what  is  com- 
ing next,  as  plainly  as  if  you  saw 
it  in  a  looking-glass." 

Tom  was  very  much  aston- 
ished: but  he  obeyed  her,  for  he  had 
learnt  always  to  believe  what  the 
fairies  told  him. 

He  was  very  sorely  tried ;  for  though,  by  keeping  the 
dog  to  heels  (or  rather  to  toes,  for  he  had  to  walk  back- 
ward), he  could  see  pretty  well  which  way  the  dog  was 
hunting,  yet  it  was  much  slower  work  to  go  backwards 
than  to  go  forwards.  But,  what  was  more  trying  still, 
no  sooner  had  he  got  out  of  Peacepool,  than  there 

[307] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


came  running  to  him  all  the  conjurors,  fortune- 
tellers, astrologers,  prophesiers,  projectors,  prestigia- 
tors,  as  many  as  were  in  those  parts  (and  there  are  too 
many  of  them  everywhere),  all  bawling  and  screaming 
at  him,  "Look  a-head,  only  look  a-head;  and  we  will 
show  you  what  man  never  saw  before,  and  right  away 
to  the  end  of  the  world!" 

But  I  am  proud  to  say  that  Tom  was  such  a  little 
dogged,  hard,  gnarly,  foursquare  brick  of  an  English 

[308] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

boy,  that  he  never  turned  his  head  round  once  all  the 
way  from  Peacepool  to  the  Other-end-of-Nowhere:  but 
kept  his  eye  on  the  dog,  and  let  him  pick  out  the  scent, 
hot  or  cold,  straight  or  crooked,  wet  or  dry,  up  hill 
or  down  dale;  by  which  means  he  never  made  a  single 
mistake,  and  saw  all  the  wonderful  and  hitherto  by-no- 
mortal-man-imagined  things,  which  it  is  my  duty  to 
relate  to  you  in  the  next  chapter. 


[309] 


ex 


to 

Q 


If 


W 


SO 


:6 

o     >  o 

;  ol 

o       OO 

fid 


CHAPTER  VIII 


.0. 


AQ 


'osK>*£seg 


^^QS^^^^^SQs 


^\-> 


^fe^ 


m^mtf^^. 


rs 


CHAPTER    VIII    AND    LAST 

HERE  begins  the  never-to-be-too-much- 
studied  account  of  the  nine-hundred 
and-ninety-ninth  part  of  the  wonderful 
things  which  Tom  saw  on  his  journey  to 
the  Other-end-of-Nowhere;  which  all  good  little  chil- 
dren are  requested  to  read;  that,  if  ever  they  get  to  the 
Other-end-of-Nowhere,  as  they  may  very  probably  do, 
they  may  not  burst  out  laughing,  or  try  to  run  away, 
or  do  any  other  silly  vulgar  thing  which  may  offend 
Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid. 

Now,  as  soon  as  Tom  had  left  Peacepool,  he  came 
to  the  white  lap  of  the  great  sea-mother,  ten  thousand 
fathoms  deep;    where  she  makes  world-pap  all  day 

[313  ] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

long,  for  the  steam-giants  to  knead,  and  the  fire-giants 
to  bake,  till  it  has  risen  and  hardened  into  mountain- 
loaves  and  island-cakes. 

And  there  Tom  was  very  near  being  kneaded  up 
in  the  world-pap,  and  turned  into  a  fossil  water-baby; 
which  would  have  astonished  the  Geological  Society 
of  New  Zealand  some  hundreds  of  thousands  of  years 
hence. 

For,  as  he  walked  along  in  the  silence  of  the  sea- 
twilight,  on  the  soft  white  ocean  floor,  he  was  aware  of 
a  hissing,  and  a  roaring,  and  a  thumping,  and  a  pump- 
ing, as  of  all  the  steam-engines  in  the  world  at  once. 
And,  when  he  came  near,  the  water  grew  boiling- 
hot;  not  that  that  hurt  him  in  the  least:  but  it 
also  grew  as  foul  as  gruel;  and  every  moment  he 
stumbled  over  dead  shells,  and  fish,  and  sharks, 
and  seals,  and  whales,  which  had  been  killed  by  the 
hot  water. 

And  at  last  he  came  to  the  great  sea-serpent  him- 
self, lying  dead  at  the  bottom;  and  as  he  was  too 
thick  to  scramble  over,  Tom  had  to  walk  round  him 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  and  more,  which  put  him  out 
of  his  path  sadly;    and,  when  he  had  got  round,  he 

[314] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

came  to  the  place  called  Stop.     And  there  he  stopped, 
and  just  in  time. 

For  he  was  on  the  edge  of  a  vast  hole  in  the  bottom 
of  the  sea,  up  which  was  rushing  and  roaring  clear 
steam  enough  to  work  all  the  engines  in  the  world  at 


once;  so  clear,  indeed,  that  it  was  quite  light  at  mo- 
ments; and  Tom  could  see  almost  up  to  the  top  of  the 
water  above,  and  down  below  into  the  pit  for  nobody 
knows  how  far. 

But,  as  soon  as  he  bent  his  head  over  the  edge,  he 

[315] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


got  such  a  rap  on  the  nose  from  pebbles,  that  he 
jumped  back  again;  for  the  steam,  as  it  rushed  up, 
rasped  away  the  sides  of  the  hole,  and  hurled  it  up 
into  the  sea  in  a  shower  of  mud  and  gravel  and  ashes; 
and  then  it  spread  all  around,  and  sank  again,  and 
covered  in  the  dead  fish  so  fast,  that  before  Tom  had 
stood  there  five  minutes  he  was  buried  in  silt  up  to 
his  ankles,  and  began  to  be  afraid  that  he  should  have 
been  buried  alive. 

And  perhaps  he  would  have  been,  but  that  while 
he  was  thinking,  the  whole  piece  of  ground  on  which 
he  stood  was  torn  off  and  blown  upwards,  and  away 
flew  Tom  a  mile  up  through  the  sea,  wondering  what 
was  coming  next. 

At  last  he  stopped — thump!  and  found  himself 
tight  in  the  legs  of  the  most  wonderful  bogy  which  he 
had  ever  seen. 

It  had  I  don't  know  how  many  wings,  as  big  as 
the  sails  of  a  wind- 
mill,    and     spread 
out  in  a  ring  like 


316] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

them;  and  with  them  it  hovered  over  the  steam  which 
rushed  up,  as  a  ball  hovers  over  the  top  of  a  fountain. 
And  for  every  wing  above  it  had  a  leg  below,  with  a 
claw  like  a  comb  at  the  tip,  and  a  nostril  at  the  root; 
and  in  the  middle  it  had  no  stomach  and  one  eye;  and 
as  for  its  mouth,  that  was  all  on  one  side,  as  the  madre- 
poriform  tubercle  in  a  star-fish  is.  Well,  it  was  a  very 
strange  beast;  but  no  stranger  than  some  dozens 
which  you  may  see. 

"What  do  you  want  here,"  it  cried  quite  peevishly, 
"getting  in  my  way?"  and  it  tried  to  drop  Tom:  but 
he  held  on  tight  to  its  claws,  thinking  himself  safer 
where  he  was. 

So  Tom  told  him  who  he  was,  and  what  his  errand 
was.     And  the  thing  winked  its  one  eye,  and  sneered: 

"I  am  too  old  to  be  taken  in  in  that  way.  You 
are  come  after  gold — I  know  you  are." 

"Gold!  What  is  gold?"  And  really  Tom  did 
not  know;  but  the  suspicious  old  bogy  would  not 
believe  him. 

But  after  a  while  Tom  began  to  understand  a  little. 
For,  as  the  vapours  came  up  out  of  the  hole,  the  bogy 
smelt  them  with  his  nostrils,  and  combed  them  and 

[317] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


sorted  them  with  his^  combs;  and 
then,  when  they  steamed  up 
through  them  against  his  wings, 
they  were  changed  into  showers 
and  streams  of  metal.  From  one  wing  fell 
gold-dust,  and  from  another  silver,  and  from 
another  copper,  and  from  another  tin,  and  from 
another  lead,  and  so  on,  and  sank  into  the  soft 
mud,  into  veins  and  cracks,  and  hardened  there. 
Whereby  it  comes  to  pass  that  the  rocks  are  full 
of  metal. 

But,  all  of  a  sudden,  somebody  shut  off  the 
steam  below,  and  the  hole  was  left  empty  in  an 
instant:  and  then  down  rushed  the  water  into 
the  hole,  in  such  a  whirlpool  that  the  bogy 
spun  round  and  round  as  fast  as  a  teetotum. 
But  that  was  all  in  his  day's  work,  like  a  fair 
fall  with  the  hounds;  so  all  he  did  was  to  say 
to  Tom — 

"Now  is  your  time,  youngster,  to  get  down, 
if  you  are  in  earnest,  which  I  don't  believe." 

"You'll  soon  see,"  said  Tom;  and  away  he 
went,  as  bold  as  Baron  Munchausen,  and  shot 

[318] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


down  the  rushing  cataract  like  a 
salmon  at  Ballisodare. 

And,    when    he    got    to     the 
bottom,    he     swam    till    he    was 
washed   on   shore   safe   upon   the 
Other-end-of-Nowhere;  and  he  found  it,  to  his 
surprise,  as  most  other  people  do,  much  more 
like  This-End-of-Somewhere  than  he  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  expecting. 

And  first  he  went  through  Waste-paper-land, 
where  all  the  stupid  books  lie  in  heaps,  up  hill 
and  down  dale,  like  leaves  in  a  winter  wood; 
and  there  he  saw  people  digging  and  grubbing 
among  them,  to  make  worse  books  out  of  bad 
ones,  and  thrashing  chaff  to  save  the  dust  of 
it;  and  a  very  good  trade  they  drove  thereby, 
especially  among  children. 

Then  he  went  by  the  sea  of  slops,  to  the 
mountain  of  messes,  and  the  territory  of  tuck, 
where  the  ground  was  very  sticky,  for  it  was  all 
made  of  bad  toffee,  and  full  of  deep  cracks  and 
holes  choked  with  wind-fallen  fruit,  and  green 
goose-berries,  and  sloes,  and  crabs,  and  whin- 

[319] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

berries,  and  hips  and  haws,  and  all  the  nasty 
things  which  little  children  will  eat,  if  they  can  get 
them.  But  the  fairies  hide  them  out  of  the  way  in 
that  country  as  fast  as  they  can,  and  very  hard  work 
they  have,  and  of  very  little  use  it  is.  For  as  fast  as 
they  hide  away  the  old  trash,  foolish  and  wicked  people 
make  fresh  trash  full  of  lime  and  poisonous  paints, 
and  actually  go  and  steal  receipts  out  of  old  Madame 
Science's  big  book  to  invent  poisons  for  little  children, 
and  sell  them  at  wakes  and  fairs  and  tuck-shops.  Very 
well.  Let  them  go  on.  Dr.  Letheby  and  Dr.  Hassall 
cannot  catch  them,  though  they  are  setting  traps  for 
them  all  day  long.  But  the  Fairy  with  the  birch-rod 
will  catch  them  all  in  time,  and  make  them  begin  at  one 
corner  of  their  shops,  and  eat  their  way  out  at  the 
other:  by  which  time  they  will  have  got  such  stomach- 
aches as  will  cure  them  of  poisoning  little  children. 

Then  came  Tom  to  the  great  land  of  Hearsay. 

When  Tom  came  into  that  land,  he  found  them 
all,  high  and  low,  man,  woman,  and  child,  running  for 
their  lives  day  and  night  continually,  and  entreating 
not  to  be  told  they  didn't  know  what:  only  the  land 
being  an  island,  and  they  having  a  dislike  to  the  water 

[320] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

(being  a  musty  lot  for  the  most  part),  they  ran  round 
and  round  the  shore  for  ever,  which  was  hard  work. 

And  running  after  them,  day  and  night,  came  such 
a  poor,  lean,  seedy,  hard-worked  old  giant,  as  ought  to 
have  been  cockered  up,  and  had  a  good  dinner  given 
him,  and  a  good  wife  found  him,  and  been  set  to  play 
with  little  children;  and  then  he  would  have  been  a 
very  presentable  old  fellow  after  all;  for  he  had  a  heart, 
though  it  was  considerably  overgrown  with  brains. 

He  was  made  up  principally  of  fish  bones  and 
parchment,  put  together  with  wire  and  Canada  balsam; 
and  smelt  strongly  of  spirits,  though  he  never  drank 
anything  but  water:  but  spirits  he  used  somehow, 
there  was  no  denying.  He  had  a  great  pair  of  spec- 
tacles on  his  nose,  and  a  butterfly-net  in  one  hand, 
and  a  geological  hammer  in  the  other;  and  was  hung 
all  over  with  pockets,  full  of  collecting  boxes,  bottles, 
microscopes,  telescopes,  barometers,  ordnance  maps, 
scalpels,  forceps,  photographic  apparatus,  and  all  other 
tackle  for  finding  out  everything  about  everything, 
and  a  little  more  too.  And,  most  strange  of  all,  he 
was  running  not  forwards  but  backwards,  as  fast  as  he 
could. 

[321] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

Away  all  the  good  folks  ran  from  him,  except  Tom, 
who  stood  his  ground  and  dodged  between  his  legs; 
and  the  giant,  when  he  had  passed  him,  looked  down, 
and  cried,  as  if  he  was  quite  pleased  and  comforted, — 

"What?  who  are  you?  And  you  actually  don't 
run  away,  like  all  the  rest?"     But  he  had  to  take 


his  spectacles  off,  Tom  remarked,  in  order  to  see  him 
plainly. 

Tom  told  him  who  he  was;  and  the  giant  pulled 
out  a  bottle  and  a  cork  instantly,  to  collect  him  with. 

But  Tom  was  too  sharp  for  that,  and  dodged 
between  his  legs  and  in  front  of  him;  and  then  the 
giant  could  not  see  him  at  all. 

"No,  no,  no!"  said  Tom,  "I've  not  been  round  the 
world,   and   through   the  world,   and  up  to  Mother 

[322] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


Carey's  haven,  beside  being  caught  in  a  net  and  called 
a  Holothurian  and  a  Cephalopod,  to  be  bottled  up  by 
any  old  giant  like  you." 

And  when  the  giant  understood  what  a  great 
traveller  Tom  had  been,  he  made  a  truce  with  him  at 
once,  and  would  have  kept  him  there  to  this  day  to 
pick  his  brains,  so  delighted  was  he  at  finding  any  one 
to  tell  him  what  he  did  not  know  before. 

"Ah,  you  lucky  little  dog!"  said  he  at  last,  quite 
simply — for  he  was  the  simplest,  pleasantest,  honestest, 
kindliest  old  Dominie  Sampson  of  a  giant  that  ever 
turned  the  world  upside  down  without  intending  it — 
"ah,  you  lucky  little  dog!     If  I  had  only  been  where 


you  have  been,  to 
have    seen ! " 
said    Tom, 
want  to  do 
had    best 
head  under 
hours,    as    I 
into  a  water 
and   then   you 

"Turn     into 


see  what  you 

"Well," 

"if    you 

that,    you 

put     your 

water  for  a  few 

did,     and    turn 

some  other  baby, 

have  a  chance." 

baby,    eh?       If    I 


[323 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

could  do  that,  and  know  what  was  happening  to  me 
for  but  one  hour,  I  should  know  everything  then, 
and  be  at  rest.  But  I  can't;  I  can't  be  a  little  child 
again;  and  I  suppose  if  I  could,  it  would  be  no  use, 
because  then  I  should  know  nothing  about  what  was 
happening  to  me.  Ah,  you  lucky  little  dog!"  said  the 
poor  old  giant. 

"But  why  do  you  run  after  all  these  poor  people?" 
said  Tom,  who  liked  the  giant  very  much. 

"My  dear,  it's  they  that  have  been  running  after 
me,  father  and  son,  for  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  years, 
throwing  stones  at  me  till  they  have  knocked  off  my 
spectacles  fifty  times,  and  calling  me  a  malignant  and 
a  turbaned  Turk,  who  beat  a  Venetian  and  traduced 
the  State — goodness  only  knows  what  they  mean,  for 
I  never  read  poetry — and  hunting  me  round  and  round 
— though  catch  me  they  can't,  for  every  time  I  go 
over  the  same  ground,  I  go  the  faster,  and  grow  the 
bigger.  While  all  I  want  is  to  be  friends  with  them, 
and  to  tell  them  something  to  their  advantage:  only 
somehow  they  are  so  strangely  afraid  of  hearing  it. 
But,  I  suppose  I  am  not  a  man  of  the  world,  and  have 
no  tact." 

[324] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"But  why  don't  you  turn  round  and  tell  them 
so? 

"Because  I  can't.  You  see,  I  must  go  backwards, 
if  I  am  to  go  at  all." 

"But  why  don't  you  stop,  and  let  them  come  up 
to  you?" 

"Why,  my  dear,  only  think.  If  I  did,  all  the 
butterflies  and  cockyolybirds  would  fly  past  me,  and 
then  I  should  catch  no  more  new  species,  and  should 
grow  rusty  and  mouldy,  and  die.  And  I  don't  intend 
to  do  that,  my  dear;  for  I  have  a  destiny  before  me, 
they  say:  though  what  it  is  I  don't  know,  and  don't 
care." 

"Don't  care?"  said  Tom. 

"No.  Do  the  duty  which  lies  nearest  you,  and 
catch  the  first  beetle  you  come  across,  is  my  motto; 
and  I  have  thriven  by  it  for  some  hundred  years. 
Now  I  must  go  on.  Dear  me,  while  I  have  been  talk- 
ing to  you,  at  least  nine  new  species  have  escaped  me." 

And  on  went  the  giant,  behind  before,  like  a  bull 
in  a  china-shop,  till  he  ran  into  the  steeple  of  the 
great  idol  temple  (for  they  are  all  idolaters  in  those 
parts,  of  course,  else  they  would  never  be  afraid  of 

[325] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

giants),  and  knocked  the  upper  half  clean  off,  hurting 
himself  horribly  about  the  small  of  the  back. 

But  little  he  cared;  for  as  soon  as  the  ruins  of  the 
steeple  were  well  between  his  legs,  he  poked  and  peered 
among  the  falling  stones,  and  shifted  his  spectacles,  and 
pulled  out  his  pocket-magnifier,  and  cried — 

"An  entirely  new  Oniscus,  and  three  obscure  Podu- 
rellae!  Besides  a  moth  which  M.  le  Roi  des  Papillons 
(though  he,  like  all  Frenchmen,  is  given  to  hasty  induc- 
tions) says  is  confined  to  the  limits  of  the  Glacial  Drift. 
This  is  most  important!" 

And  down  he  sat  on  the  nave  of  the  temple  (not 
being  a  man  of  the  world)  to  examine  his  Podurellas. 
Whereon  (as  was  to  be  expected)  the  roof  caved  in 
bodily,  smashing  the  idols,  and  sending  the  priests 
flying  out  of  doors  and  windows,  like  rabbits  out  of  a 
burrow  when  a  ferret  goes  in. 

But  he  never  heeded;  for  out  of  the  dust  flew  a 
bat,  and  the  giant  had  him  in  a  moment. 

"Dear  me!  This  is  even  more  important!  Here 
is  a  cognate  species  to  that  which  Macgilliwaukie 
Brown  insists  is  confined  to  the  Buddhist  temples  of 
Little  Thibet;    and   now  when   I   look  at  it,  it  may 

[326] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


be  only  a  variety  produced  by  dif- 
ference of  climate!" 

And  having  bagged  his  bat,  up 
he  got,  and  on  he  went;  while  all 
the  people  ran,  being  in  none  the 
better  humour  for  having  their 
temple  smashed  for  the  sake  of 
three  obscure  species  of  Podurella, 
and  a  Buddhist  bat. 

"Well,"  thought  Tom,  "this 
is  a  very  pretty  quarrel,  with  a 
good  deal  to  be  said  on  both 
sides.  But  it  is  no  business  of 
mine." 

So  the  giant  ran  round  after 
the  people,  and  the  people  ran 
round  after  the  giant,  and  they  are 
running  unto  this  day  for  aught  I 
know,  or  do  not  know;  and  will 
run  till  either  he,  or  they,  or  both, 
turn  into  little  children.  And  then, 
as  Shakespeare  says  (and  therefore 
it  must  be  true) — 

[327] 


J. 


*«* 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"  Jack  shall  have  Gill 

Nought  shall  go  ill 

The  man  shall  have  his  mare  again,  and  all  go  well. ' ' 

Then  Tom  came  to  a  very  famous  island,  which 
was  called,  in  the  days  of  the  great  traveller  Captain 
Gulliver,  the  Isle  of  Laputa.  But  Mrs.  Bedonebyas- 
youdid  has  named  it  over  again,  the  Isle  of  Tomtoddies, 
all  heads  and  no  bodies. 

And  when  Tom  came  near  it,  he  heard  such  a 
grumbling  and  grunting  and  growling  and  wailing  and 
weeping  and  whining  that  he  thought  people  must  be 
ringing  little  pigs,  or  cropping  puppies'  ears,  or  drown- 
ing kittens:  but  when  he  came  nearer  still,  he  began  to 
hear  words  among  the  noise;  which  was  the  Tomtoddies' 
song  which  they  sing  morning  and  evening,  and  all 
night  too,  to  their  great  idol  Examination — 

"/  cant  learn  my  lesson:  the  examiner's  coming!" 

And  that  was  the  only  song  which  they  knew. 

And  when  Tom  got  on  shore  the  first  thing  he  saw 
was  a  great  pillar,  on  one  side  of  which  was  inscribed, 
"Playthings  not  allowed  here;"  at  which  he  was  so 

[328] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

shocked  that  he  would  not  stay  to  see  what  was  written 
on  the  other  side.  Then  he  looked  round  for  the 
people  of  the  island:  but  instead  of  men,  women,  and 
children,  he  found  nothing  but  turnips  and  radishes, 
beet  and  mangold  wurzel,  without  a  single  green  leaf 
among  them,  and  half  of  them  burst  and  decayed,  with 
toad-stools  growing  out  of  them.  Those  which  were 
left  began  crying  to  Tom,  in  half  a  dozen  different 
languages  at  once,  and  all  of  them  badly  spoken,  "I 
can't  learn  my  lesson;  do  come  and  help  me!" 

"And  what  good  on  earth  will  it  do  you  if  I  did 
tell  you?"  quoth  Tom. 

Well,  they  didn't  know  that:  all  they  knew  was 
the  examiner  was  coming. 


[329] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Then  Tom  stumbled  on  the  hugest  and  softest 
nimblecomequick  turnip  you  ever  saw  filling  a  hole  in 
a  crop  of  swedes,  and  it  cried  to  him,  "Can  you  tell 
me  anything  at  all  about  anything  you  like?" 

"About  what?"  says  Tom. 

"About  anything  you  like;  for  as  fast  as  I  learn 
things  I  forget  them  again.  So  my  mamma  says  that 
my  intellect  is  not  adapted  for  methodic  science,  and 
says  that  I  must  go  in  for  general  information." 

Tom  told  him  that  he  did  not  know  general  in- 
formation: but  he  could  tell  him  a  great  many  strange 
things  which  he  had  seen  in  his  travels. 

So  he  told  him  prettily  enough,  while  the  poor 
turnip  listened  very  carefully;  and  the  more  he  listened, 
the  more  he  forgot,  and  the  more  water  ran  out  of 
him. 

Tom  thought  he  was  crying:  but  it  was  only  his 
poor  brains  running  away,  from  being  worked  so  hard; 
and  as  Tom  talked,  the  unhappy  turnip  streamed  down 
all  over  with  juice,  and  split  and  shrank  till  nothing 
was  left  of  him  but  rind  and  water;  whereat  Tom  ran 
away  in  a  fright,  for  he  thought  he  might  be  taken  up 
for  killing  the  turnip. 

[330] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

But,  on  the  contrary,  the  turnip's  parents  were 
highly  delighted,  and  considered  him  a  saint  and  a 
martyr,  and  put  up  a  long  inscription  over  his  tomb 
about  his  wonderful  talents,  early  development,  and 
unparalleled  precocity.  Were  they  not  a  foolish  couple? 
But  there  was  a  still  more  foolish  couple  next  to  them, 
who  were  beating  a  wretched  little  radish,  no  bigger 
than  my  thumb,  for  sullenness  and  obstinacy  and  wilful 
stupidity,  and  never  knew  that  the  reason  why  it 
couldn't  learn  or  hardly  even  speak  was,  that  there  was 
a  great  worm  inside  it  eating  out  all  its  brains.  But 
even  they  are  no  foolisher  than  some  hundred  score  of 
papas  and  mammas,  who  fetch  the  rod  when  they 
ought  to  fetch  a  new  toy,  and  send  to  the  dark  cup- 
board instead  of  to  the  doctor. 

Tom  was  so  puzzled  and  frightened  with  all  he 
saw,  that  he  was  longing  to  ask  the  meaning  of  it; 
and  at  last  he  stumbled  over  a  respectable  old  stick 
lying  half  covered  with  earth.  But  a  very  stout  and 
worthy  stick  it  was,  for  it  belonged  to  good  Roger 
Ascham  in  old  time,  and  had  carved  on  its  head  King 
Edward  the  Sixth,  with  the  Bible  in  his  hand. 

"You  see,"  said  the  stick,  "there  were  as  pretty 

[331] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


little  children  once  as  you  could  wish  to  see,  and 
might  have  been  so  still  if  they  had  been  only  left  to 
grow  up  like  human  beings,  and  then  handed  over  to 
me;  but  their  foolish  fathers  and  mothers,  instead  of 
letting  them  pick  flowers,  and  make  dirt-pies,  and  get 
birds'  nests,  and  dance  round  the  gooseberry  bush,  as 
little  children  should,  kept  them  always  at  lessons, 
working,  working,  working,  learning  week-day  lessons 
all  week-days,  and  Sunday  lessons  all  Sunday,  and 
weekly  examinations  every  Saturday,  and  monthly 
examinations  every  month,  and  yearly  examinations 
every  year,  everything  seven  times  over,  as  if  once 
was  not  enough,  and  enough  as  good  as  a  feast — till 
their  brains  grew  big,  and  their  bodies  grew  small,  and 
they  were  all  changed  into  turnips,  with  little  but 
water  inside;  and  still  their  foolish  parents  actually 
pick  the  leaves  off  them  as  fast  as  they  grow,  lest  they 
should  have  anything  green  about  them." 

"Ah!"  said  Tom,  "if  dear  Mrs.  Doasyouwouldbe- 
doneby  knew  of  it  she  would  send  them  a  lot  of  tops, 

[332] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

and  balls,  and  marbles,  and  ninepins,  and  make  them 
all  as  jolly  as  sand-boys." 

"It  would  be  no  use,"  said  the  stick.  "They  can't 
play  now,  if  they  tried.  Don't  you  see  how  their  legs 
have  turned  to  roots  and  grown  into  the  ground,  by 
never  taking  any  exercise,  but  sapping  and  moping 
always  in  the  same  place?  But  here  comes  the  Exam- 
iner-of-all-Examiners.  So  you  had  better  get  away, 
I  warn  you,  or  he  will  examine  you  and  your  dog  into 
the  bargain,  and  set  him  to  examine  all  the  other  dogs, 
and  you  to  examine  all  the  other  water-babies.  There 
is  no  escaping  out  of  his  hands,  for  his  nose  is  nine  thou- 
sand miles  long,  and  can  go  down  chimneys,  and 
through  keyholes,  upstairs,  downstairs,  in  my  lady's 
chamber,  examining  all  little  boys,  and  the  little  boys' 
tutors  likewise.  But  when  he  is  thrashed — so  Mrs. 
Bedonebyasyoudid  has  promised  me — I  shall  have  the 
thrashing  of  him:  and  if  I  don't  lay  it  on  with  a  will 
it's  a  pity." 


[333 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Tom  went  off:  but  rather  slowly  and  surlily;  for 
he  was  somewhat  minded  to  face  this  same  Examiner- 
of-all-Examiners,  who  came  striding  among  the  poor 
turnips,  binding  heavy  burdens  and  grievous  to  be 
borne,  and  laying  them  on  little  children's  shoulders, 
like  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  of  old,  and  not  touching 
the  same  with  one  of  his  fingers;  for  he  had  plenty 
of  money,  and  a  fine  house  to  live  in,  and  so  forth; 
which  was  more  than  the  poor  little  turnips  had. 

But  when  he  got  near,  he  looked  so  big  and  burly 
and  dictatorial,  and  shouted  so  loud  to  Tom,  to  come 
and  be  examined,  that  Tom  ran  for  his  life,  and  the 
dog  too.  And  really  it  was  time;  for  the  poor  turnips, 
in  their  hurry  and  fright,  crammed  themselves  so  fast 
to  be  ready  for  the  Examiner,  that  they  burst  and 
popped  by  dozens  all  round  him,  till  the  place  sounded 
like  Aldershot  on  a  field-day,  and  Tom  thought  he 
should  be  blown  into  the  air,  dog  and  all. 

As  he  went  down  to  the  shore  he  passed  the  poor 
turnip's  new  tomb.  But  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid  had 
taken  away  the  epitaph  about  talents  and  precocity 
and  development,  and  put  up  one  of  her  own  instead 
which  Tom  thought  much  more  sensible: — 

[334] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Instruction  sore  long  time  I  bore, 
And  cramming  was  in  vain; 
Till  heaven  did  please  my  woes  to  ease, 
With  water  on  the  brain."    . 

So  Tom  jumped  into  the  sea,  and  swam  on  his  way. 

And  next  he  came  to  Oldwivesfabledom,  where  the 
folks  were  all  heathens,  and  worshipped  a  howling  ape. 

And  there  he  found  a  little  boy  sitting  in  the 
middle  of  the  road,  and  crying  bitterly. 

"What  are  you  crying  for?"  said  Tom. 

"Because  I  am  not  as  frightened  as  I  could  wish 
to  be." 

"Not  frightened?  You  are  a  queer  little  chap: 
but,  if  you  want  to  be  frightened,  here  goes — Boo!" 

"Ah,"  said  the  little  boy,  "that  is  very  kind  of 
you;  but  I  don't  feel  that  it  has  made  any  impression." 

Tom  offered  to  upset  him,  punch  him,  stamp  on 
him,  fettle  him  over  the  head  with  a  brick,  or  anything 
else  whatsoever  which  would  give  him  the  slightest 
comfort. 

But  he  only  thanked  Tom  very  civilly,  in  fine  long 
words  which  he  had  heard  other  folk  use,  and  which, 

[335] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

therefore,  he  thought  were  fit  and  proper  to  use  him- 
self; and  cried  on  till  his  papa  and  mamma  came,  and 
sent  off  for  the  Powwow  man  immediately.  And  a 
very  good-natured  gentleman  and  lady  they  were, 
though  they  were  heathens;  and  talked  quite  pleas- 
antly to  Tom  about  his  travels,  till  the  Powwow  man 
arrived,  with  his  thunderbox  under  his  arm. 

And  a  well-fed,  ill-favoured  gentleman  he  was. 
Tom  was  a  little  frightened  at  first;  for  he  thought  it 
was  Grimes.  But  he  soon  saw  his  mistake:  for  Grimes 
always  looked  a  man  in  the  face;  and  this  fellow  never 
did.  And  when  he  spoke,  it  was  fire  and  smoke;  and 
when  he  sneezed,  it  was  squibs  and  crackers;  and  when 
he  cried  (which  he  did  whenever  it  paid  him),  it  was 
boiling  pitch;  and  some  of  it  was  sure  to  stick. 

"Here  we  are  again!"  cried  he,  like  the  clown 
in  a  pantomime.  "So  you  can't  feel  frightened,  my 
little  dear — eh?  I'll  do  that  for  you.  I'll  make  an 
impression  on  you!  Yah!  Boo!  Whirroo!  Hulla- 
baloo!" 

And  he  rattled,  thumped,  brandished  his  thunder- 
box,  yelled,  shouted,  raved,  roared,  stamped,  and 
danced  corrobory  like  any  black  fellow;    and  then  he 

[336] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

touched  a  spring  in  the  thunderbox,  and  out  popped 
turnip-ghosts  and  magic-lanthorns  and  pasteboard  bo- 
gies and  spring-heeled  Jacks,  and  sallaballas,  with  such 
a  horrid  din,  clatter,  clank,  roll,  rattle,  and  roar,  that 


the  little  boy  turned  up  the  whites  of  his  eyes,  and 
fainted  right  away. 

And  at  that  his  poor  heathen  papa  and  mamma 
were  as  much  delighted  as  if  they  had  found  a  gold 
mine;  and  fell  down  upon  their  knees  before  the  Pow- 
wow man,  and  gave  him  a  palanquin  with  a  pole  of 

[337] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

solid  silver  and  curtains  of  cloth  of  gold;  and  carried 
him  about  in  it  on  their  own  backs:  but  as  soon  as 
they  had  taken  him  up,  the  pole  stuck  to  their  shoulders, 
and  they  could  not  set  him  down  any  more,  but  carried 
him  on  willynilly,  as  Sinbad  carried  the  old  man  of 
the  sea:  which  was  a  pitiable  sight  to  see;  for  the 
father  was  a  very  brave  officer,  and  wore  two  swords 
and  a  blue  button;  and  the  mother  was  as  pretty  a 
lady  as  ever  had  pinched  feet  like  a  Chinese.  But, 
you  see,  they  had  chosen  to  do  a  foolish  thing  just 
once  too  often;  so,  by  the  laws  of  Mrs.  Bedonebyas- 
youdid,  they  had  to  go  on  doing  it  whether  they  chose 
or  not,  till  the  coming  of  the  Cocqcigrues. 

Ah!  don't  you  wish  that  some  one  would  go  and 
convert  those  poor  heathens,  and  teach  them  not  to 
frighten  their  little  children  into  fits? 

"Now,  then,"  said  the  Powwow  man  to  Tom, 
"wouldn't  you  like  to  be  frightened,  my  little  dear? 
For  I  can  see  plainly  that  you  are  a  very  wicked,  naughty, 
graceless,  reprobate  boy." 

"You're  another,"  quoth  Tom,  very  sturdily.  And 
when  the  man  ran  at  him,  and  cried  "Boo!"  Tom  ran 
at  him  in  return,  and  cried  "Boo!"  likewise,  right  in 

[338] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

his  face,  and  set  the  little  dog  upon  him;   and  at  his 
legs  the  dog  went. 

At  which,  if  you  will  believe  it,  the  fellow  turned 
tail,  thunderbox  and  all,  with  a  "Woof!"  like  an  old 
sow  on  the  common;   and  ran  for  his  life,  screaming, 


"Help!  thieves!  murder!  fire!  He  is  going  to  kill 
me!  I  am  a  ruined  man!  He  will  murder  me;  and 
break,  burn,  and  destroy  my  precious  and  invaluable 
thunderbox;  and  then  you  will  have  no  more  thunder- 
showers  in  the  land.     Help!  help!  help!" 

[339] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

At  which  the  papa  and  mamma  and  all  the  people 
of  Oldwivesfabledom  flew  at  Tom,  shouting,  "Oh,  the 
wicked,  impudent,  hard-hearted,  graceless  boy!  Beat 
him,  kick  him,  shoot  him,  drown  him,  hang  him,  burn 
him!"  and  so  forth:  but  luckily  they  had  nothing  to 
shoot,  hang,  or  burn  him  with,  for  the  fairies  had  hid 
all  the  killing-tackle  out  of  the  way  a  little  while  before; 
so  they  could  only  pelt  him  with  stones;  and  some  of 
the  stones  went  clean  through  him,  and  came  out  the 
other  side.  But  he  did  not  mind  that  a  bit;  for  the 
holes  closed  up  again  as  fast  as  they  were  made,  be- 
cause he  was  a  water-baby.  However,  he  was  very 
glad  when  he  was  safe  out  of  the  country,  for  the  noise 
there  made  him  all  but  deaf. 

Then  he  came  to  a  very  quiet  place,  called  Leave- 
heavenalone.  And  there  the  sun  was  drawing  water 
out  of  the  sea  to  make  steam-threads,  and  the  wind 
was  twisting  them  up  to  make  cloud-patterns,  till  they 
had  worked  between  them  the  loveliest  wedding  veil 
of  Chantilly  lace,  and  hung  it  up  in  their  own  Crystal 
Palace  for  any  one  to  buy  who  could  afford  it;  while 
the  good  old  sea  never  grudged,  for  she  knew  they 
would  pay  her  back  honestly.     So  the  sun  span,  and 

[340] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

the  wind  wove,  and  all  went  well  with  the  great  steam- 
loom;  as  is  likely,  considering — and  considering — and 
considering — 

And  at  last,  after  innumerable  adventures,  each 
more  wonderful  than  the  last,  he  saw  before  him  a 
huge  building. 

Tom  walked  towards  this  great  building,  wonder- 
ing what  it  was,  and  having  a  strange  fancy  that  he 
might  find  Mr.  Grimes  inside  it,  till  he  saw  running 
toward  him,  and  shouting  "Stop!"  three  or  four  people, 
who,  when  they  came  nearer,  were  nothing  else  than 
policemen's  truncheons,  running  along  without  legs 
or  arms. 

Tom  was  not  astonished.  He  was  long  past  that. 
Besides,  he  had  seen  the  navicular  in  the  water  move 
nobody  knows  how,  a  hundred  times,  without  arms 
or  legs,  or  anything  to  stand  in  their  stead.  Neither 
was  he  frightened;  for  he  had  been  doing  no  harm. 

So  he  stopped;  and,  when  the  foremost  truncheon 
came  up  and  asked  his  business,  he  showed  Mother 
Carey's  pass;  and  the  truncheon  looked  at  it  in  the 
oddest  fashion;  for  he  had  one  eye  in  the  middle  of 
his  upper  end,  so  that  when  he  looked  at  anything, 

[34i] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


being  quite  stiff,  he  had  to  slope  himself,  and  poke 
himself,  till  it  was  a  wonder  why  he  did  not  tumble 
over;  but,  being  quite  full  of  the  spirit  of  justice  (as 
all  policemen,  and  their  truncheons,  ought  to  be),  he 
Was  always  in  a  position  of  stable  equilibrium,  which- 
ever way  he  put  himself. 

"All  right — pass  on,"  said  he  at  last.  And  then 
he  added:  "I  had  better  go  with  you,  young  man." 
And  Tom  had  no  objection,  for  such  company  was 
both  respectable  and  safe;  so  the  truncheon  coiled  its 
thong  neatly  round  its  handle,  to  prevent  tripping  itself 
up — for  the  thong  had  got  loose  in  running — and 
marched  on  by  Tom's  side. 

"Why  have  you  no  policeman  to  carry  you?" 
asked  Tom,  after  a  while. 

"Because     we 


clumsy-made 
land- world,  which 
having  a  whole 
about.  We  do 
ourselves; 
very  well, 
it      who 


are      not    like     those 

truncheons    in    the 

cannot     go      without 

man    to    carry    them 

our     own    work     for 

and     do    it 

though  I  say 

should  not." 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Then  why  have  you  a  thong  to 
your  handle?"  asked  Tom. 

"To    hang   ourselves   up   by,    of 
course,  when  we  are  off  duty." 

Tom  had  got  his  answer,  and  had 
no  more  to  say,  till  they  came  up  to 
the  great  iron  door  of  the  prison. 
And  there  the  truncheon  knocked 
twice,  with  its  own  head. 

A   wicket    in    the    door 
opened,  and  out  looked  a  tremendous  old  brass  blun- 
derbuss charged   up   to  the  muzzle  with   slugs,   who 
was  the  porter;    and  Tom  started  back  a  little  at  the 
sight  of  him. 

"What  case  is  this?"  he  asked  in  a  deep  voice, 
out  of  his  broad  bell  mouth. 

"If  you  please,  sir,  it  is  no  case;  only  a  young 
gentleman  from  her  ladvshio,  who  wants  to  see  Grimes, 
the  master-sweep." 

"Grimes?"  said  the  blunderbuss.  And  he 
pulled  in  his  muzzle,  perhaps  to  look  over  his  prison- 
lists. 

"Grimes  is  up  chimney  No.  345,"  he  said  from 

[343] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

inside.  "So  the  young  gentleman  had  better  go  on  to 
the  roof." 

Tom  looked  up  at  the  enormous  wall,  which  seemed 
at  least  ninety  miles  high,  and  wondered  how  he  should 
ever  get  up;  but,  when  he  hinted  that  to  the  truncheon, 
it  settled  the  matter  in  a  moment.  For  it  whisked 
round,  and  gave  him  such  a  shove  behind  as  sent  him 
up  to  the  roof  in  no  time,  with  his  little  dog  under  his 
arm. 

And  there  he  walked  along  the  leads,  till  he  met 
another  truncheon,  and  told  him  his  errand. 

"Very  good,"  it  said.  "Come  along:  but  it  will 
be  of  no  use.  He  is  the  most  unremorseful,  hard- 
hearted, foul-mouthed  fellow  I  have  in  charge;  and 
thinks  about  nothing  but  beer  and  pipes,  which  are 
not  allowed  here,  of  course." 

So  they  walked  along  over  the  leads,  and  very 
sooty  they  were,  and  Tom  thought  the  chimneys  must 
want  sweeping  very  much.  But  he  was  surprised  to 
see  that  the  soot  did  not  stick  to  his  feet,  or  dirty 
them  in  the  least.  Neither  did  the  live  coals,  which 
were  lying  about  in  plenty,  burn  him;  for,  being  a 
water-baby,  his  radical  humours  were  of  a  moist  and 

[344] 


■  " 


A 


Mrs.  Doasyouwouldbedoneby 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

cold  nature,  as  you  may  read  at  large  in  Lemnius, 
Cardan,  Van  Helmont,  and  other  gentlemen,  who  knew 
as  much  as  they  could,  and  no  man  can  know  more. 

And  at  last  they  came  to  chimney  No.  345.  Out 
of  the  top  of  it,  his  head  and  shoulders  just  showing, 
stuck  poor  Mr.  Grimes,  so  sooty,  and  bleared,  and  ugly, 
that  Tom  could  hardly  bear  to  look  at  him.  And  in 
his  mouth  was  a  pipe;  but  it  was  not  alight;  though 
he  was  pulling  at  it  with  all  his  might. 

"Attention,  Mr.  Grimes,"  said  the  truncheon; 
"here  is  a  gentleman  come  to  see  you." 

But  Mr.  Grimes  only  said  bad  words;  and  kept 
grumbling,  "My  pipe  won't  draw.  My  pipe  won't 
draw." 

"Keep  a  civil  tongue,  and  attend!"  said  the  trunch- 
eon; and  popped  up  just  like  Punch,  hitting  Grimes 
such  a  crack  over  the  head  with  itself,  that  his  brains 
rattled  inside  like  a  dried  walnut  in  its  shell.  He  tried 
to  get  his  hands  out,  and  rub  the  place:  but  he  could 
not,  for  they  were  stuck  fast  in  the  chimney.  Now  he 
was  forced  to  attend. 

"Hey!"  he  said,  "why,  it's  Tom!  I  suppose  you  have 
come  here  to  laugh  at  me,  you  spiteful  little  atomy?" 

[34S] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

Tom  assured  him  he  had  not,  but  only  wanted  to 
help  him. 

"I  don't  want  anything  except  beer,  and  that  I 
can't  get;  and  a  light  to  this  bothering  pipe,  and  that 
I  can't  get  either." 

"I'll  get  you  one,"  said  Tom;  and  he  took  up  a 
live  coal  (there  were  plenty  lying  about)  and  put  it  to 
Grimes'  pipe:  but  it  went  out  instantly. 

"It's  no  use,"  said  the  truncheon,  leaning  itself  up 
against  the  chimney  and  looking  on.  "I  tell,  you,  it 
is  no  use.  His  heart  is  so  cold  that  it  freezes  every- 
thing that  comes  near  him.  You  will  see  that  presently, 
plain  enough." 

"Oh,  of  course,  it's  my  fault.  Everything's  always 
my  fault,"  said  Grimes.  "Now  don't  go  to  hit  me 
again"  (for  the  truncheon  started  upright,  and  looked 
very  wicked);  "you  know,  if  my  arms  were  only  free, 
you  daren't  hit  me  then." 

The  truncheon  leant  back  against  the  chimney, 
and  took  no  notice  of  the  personal  insult,  like  a 
well-trained  policeman  as  it  was,  though  he  was  ready 
enough  to  avenge  any  transgression  against  morality 
or  order. 

[346] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"But  can't  I  help  you  in  any  other  way?  Can't 
I  help  you  to  get  out  of  this  chimney?"  said  Tom. 

"No,"  interposed  the  truncheon;  "he  has  come  to 
the  place  where  everybody  must  help  themselves;  and 
he  will  find  it  out,  I  hope,  before  he  has  done  with  me." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Grimes,  "of  course  it's  me.  Did  I 
ask  to  be  brought  here  into  the  prison?     Did  I  ask 


to  be  set  to  sweep  your  foul  chimneys?  Did  I  ask  to 
have  lighted  straw  put  under  me  to  make  me  go  up? 
Did  I  ask  to  stick  fast  in  the  very  first  chimney  of 
all,  because  it  was  so  shamefully  clogged  up  with  soot? 
Did  I  ask  to  stay  here — I  don't  know  how  long — a 
hundred  years,  I  do  believe,  and  never  get  my  pipe, 
nor  my  beer,  nor  nothing  fit  for  a  beast,  let  alone  a 
man?" 

[347] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"No,"  answered  a  solemn  voice  behind.  "No 
more  did  Tom,  when  you  behaved  to  him  in  the  very 
same  way." 

It  was  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid.  And,  when  the 
truncheon  saw  her,  it  started  bolt  upright — Attention! 
— and  made  such  a  low  bow,  that  if  it  had  not  been 
full  of  the  spirit  of  justice,  it  must  have  tumbled  on 
its  end,  and  probably  hurt  its  one  eye.  And  Tom 
made  his  bow  too. 

"Oh,  ma'am,"  he  said,  "don't  think  about  me; 
that's  all  past  and  gone,  and  good  times  and  bad  times 
and  all  times  pass  over.  But  may  not  I  help  poor 
Mr.  Grimes?  Mayn't  I  try  and  get  some  of  these 
bricks  away,  that  he  may  move  his  arms?" 

"You  may  try,  of  course,"  she  said. 

So  Tom  pulled  and  tugged  at  the  bricks:  but  he 
could  not  move  one.  And  then  he  tried  to  wipe  Mr. 
Grimes'  face:   but  the  soot  would  not  come  off. 

"Oh,  dear!"  he  said.  "I  have  come  all  this  way, 
through  all  these  terrible  places,  to  help  you,  and  now 
I  am  of  no  use  at  all." 

"You  had  best  leave  me  alone,"  said  Grimes;  "you 
are  a  good-natured  forgiving  little  chap,  and  that's 

[348] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

truth;  but  you'd  best  be  off.  The  hail's  coming  on 
soon,  and  it  will  beat  the  eyes  out  of  your  little 
head." 

"What  hail?" 

"Why,  hail  that  falls  every  evening  here;  and,  till 
it  comes  close  to  me,  it's  like  so  much  warm  rain:  but 
then  it  turns  to  hail  over  my  head,  and  knocks  me 
about  like  small  shot." 

"That  hail  will  never  come  any  more,"  said  the 
strange  lady.  "I  have  told  you  before  what  it  was. 
It  was  your  mother's  tears,  those  which  she  shed  when 
she  prayed  for  you  by  her  bedside;  but  your  cold 
heart  froze  it  into  hail.  But  she  is  gone  to  heaven 
now,  and  will  weep  no  more  for  her  graceless  son." 

Then  Grimes  was  silent  awhile;  and  then  he  looked 
very  sad. 

"So  my  old  mother's  gone,  and  I  never  there  to 
speak  to  her!  Ah!  a  good  woman  she  was,  and  might 
have  been  a  happy  one,  in  her  little  school  there  in 
Vendale,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me  and  my  bad  ways." 

"Did  she  keep  the  school  in  Vendale?"  asked 
Tom.  And  then  he  told  Grimes  all  the  story  of  his 
going  to  her  house,  and  how  she  could  not  abide  the 

[349] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


sight  of  a  chimney-sweep,  and  then  how  kind  she  was, 
and  how  he  turned  into  a  water-baby. 

"Ah!"  said  Grimes,  "good  reason  she  had  to  hate 
the  sight  of  a  chimney-sweep.  I  ran  away  from  her 
and  took  up  with  the  sweeps,  and  never  let  her  know 
where  I  was,  nor  sent  her  a  penny  to  help  her,  and 
now  it's  too  late — too  late!"  said  Mr.  Grimes. 

And  he  began  crying  and  blubbering  like  a  great 
baby,  till  his  pipe  dropped  out  of  his  mouth,  and  broke 
all  to  bits. 

"Oh,  dear,  if  I  was  but  a  little  chap  in  Vendale 
again,  to  see  the  clear  beck,  and  the  apple-orchard,  and 
the  yew-hedge,  how  different  I  would  go  on!  But  it's 
too  late  now.  So  you  go  along,  you  kind  little  chap, 
and  don't  stand  to  look  at  a  man  crving,  that's  old 

[3So] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 

enough  to  be  your  father,  and  never  feared  the  face  of 
man,  nor  of  worse  neither.  But  I'm  beat  now,  and 
beat  I  must  be.  I've  made  my  bed,  and  I  must  lie 
on  it.  Foul  I  would  be,  and  foul  I  am,  as  an  Irish- 
woman said  to  me  once;  and  little  I  heeded  it.  It's 
all  my  own  fault:  but  it's  too  late."  And  he  cried  so 
bitterly  that  Tom  began  crying  too. 

"Never  too  late,"  said  the  fairy,  in  such  a  strange 
soft  new  voice  that  Tom  looked  up  at  her;  and  she 
was  so  beautiful  for  the  moment,  that  Tom  half  fancied 
she  was  her  sister. 

No  more  was  it  too  late.  For,  as  poor  Grimes 
cried  and  blubbered  on,  his  own  tears  did  what  his 
mother's  could  not  do,  and  Tom's  could  not  do,  and 
nobody's  on  earth  could  do  for  him;  for  they  washed 
the  soot  off  his  face  and  off  his  clothes;  and  then  they 
washed  the  mortar  away  from  between  the  bricks;  and 
the  chimney  crumbled  down;  and  Grimes  began  to 
get  out  of  it. 

Up  jumped  the  truncheon,  and  was  going  to  hit 
him  on  the  crown  a  tremendous  thump,  and  drive  him 
down  again  like  a  cork  into  a  bottle.  But  the  strange 
lady  put  it  aside. 

[3Si] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

"Will  you  obey  me  if  I  give  you  a  chance?" 

"As  you  please,  ma'am.  You're  stronger  than  me 
— that  I  know  too  well,  and  wiser  than  me,  I  know 
too  well  also.  And,  as  for  being  my  own  master,  I've 
fared  ill  enough  with  that  as  yet.  So  whatever  your 
ladyship  pleases  to  order  me;  for  I'm  beat,  and  that's 
the  truth." 

"Be  it  so  then — you  may  come  out.  But  remember, 
disobey  me  again,  and  into  a  worse  place  still  you  go." 

"I  beg  pardon,  ma'am,  but  I  never  disobeyed  you 
that  I  know  of.  I  never  had  the  honor  of  setting 
eyes  upon  you  till  I  came  to  these  ugly  quarters." 

"Never  saw  me?  Who  said  to  you,  Those  that 
will  be  foul,  foul  they  will  be?" 

Grimes  looked  up;  and  Tom  looked  up  too;  for 
the  voice  was  that  of  the  Irishwoman  who  met  them 
the  day  that  they  went  out  together  to  Harthover.  "I 
gave  you  your  warning  then:  but  you  gave  it  yourself 
a  thousand  times  before  and  since.  Every  bad  word 
that  you  said — every  cruel  and  mean  thing  that  you 
did — every  time  that  you  got  tipsy — every  day  that 
you  went  dirty — you  were  disobeying  me,  whether  you 
knew  it  or  not." 

[352] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


"If  I'd  only  known,  ma'am- 


"You  knew  well  enough  that  you  were  disobeying 
something,  though  you  did  not  know  it  was  me.  But 
come  out  and  take  your  chance.  Perhaps  it  may  be 
your  last." 

So  Grimes  stepped  out  of  the  chimney,  and  really, 
if  it  had  not  been  for  the  scars  on  his  face,  he  looked 
as  clean  and  respectable  as  a  master-sweep  need  look. 

"Take  him  away,"  said  she  to  the  truncheon,  "and 
give  him  his  ticket-of-leave." 

"And  what  is  he  to  do,  ma'am?" 

"Get  him  to  sweep  out  the  crater  of  Etna;  he  will 
find  some  very  steady  men  working  out  their  time 
there,  who  will  teach  him  his  business:  but  mind,  if 
that  crater  gets  choked  again,  and  there  is  an  earth- 
quake in  consequence,  bring  them  all  to  me,  and  I 
shall  investigate  the  case  very  severely." 

So  the  truncheon  marched  off  Mr.  Grimes,  looking 
as  meek  as  a  drowned  worm. 


[353] 


THE    WATER-BABIES 


And  for  aught  I  know,  or  do  not  know,  he  is  sweep- 
ing the  crater  of  Etna  to  this  very  day. 

"And  now,"  said  the  fairy  to  Tom,  "your  work 
here  is  done.     You  may  as  well  go  back  again." 

"I  should  be  glad  enough  to  go,"  said  Tom,  "but 
how  am  I  to  get  up  that  great  hole  again,  now  the 
steam  has  stopped  blowing?" 

"I  will  take  you  up  the  backstairs:  but  I  must 
bandage  your  eyes  first  ;  for  I  never  allow  anybody  to 
see  those  backstairs  of  mine." 

[354] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

So  she  tied  the  bandage  on  his  eyes  with  one  hand, 
and  with  the  other  she  took  it  off. 

"Now,"  she  said,  "you  are  safe  up  the  stairs." 
Tom  opened  his  eyes  very  wide,  and  his  mouth  too; 
for  he  had  not,  as  he  thought,  moved  a  single  step. 
But,  when  he  looked  round  him,  there  could  be  no 
doubt  that  he  was  safe  up  the  backstairs,  whatsoever 
they  may  be,  which  no  man  is  going  to  tell  you,  for 
the  plain  reason  that  no  man  knows. 

The  first  thing  which  Tom  saw  was  the  black 
cedars,  high  and  sharp  against  the  rosy  dawn;  and  St. 
Brandan's  Isle  reflected  double  in  the  still  broad  silver 
sea.  The  wind  sang  softly  in  the  cedars,  and  the 
water  sang  among  the  caves:  the  sea-birds  sang  as  they 
streamed  out  into  the  ocean,  and  the  land-birds  as  they 
built  among  the  boughs;  and  the  air  was  so  full  of 
song  that  it  stirred  St.  Brandan  and  his  hermits,  as 
they  slumbered  in  the  shade;  and  they  moved  their 
good  old  lips,  and  sang  their  morning  hymn  amid  their 
dreams.  But  among  all  the  songs  one  came  across  the 
water  more  sweet  and  clear  than  all;  for  it  was  the 
song  of  a  young  girl's  voice. 

And  what  was  the  song  which  she  sang?     Ah,  my 

[355] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


little  man,  I  am  too  old  to  sing  that  song, 
and  you  too  young  to  understand  it.  But 
have  patience,  and  keep  your  eye  single, 
and  your  hands  clean,  and  you  will  learn 
some  day  to  sing  it  yourself,  without 
needing  any  man  to  teach  you. 

And  as  Tom  neared  the 
island,  there  sat  upon  a  rock 
the  most  graceful  creature 
that  ever  was  seen,  looking 
down,  with  her  chin  upon  her 
hand,  and  paddling  with  her 
feet  in  the  water.  And  when 
they  came  to  her  she  looked 
up,  and  behold  it  was  Ellie. 
"Oh,  Miss  Ellie,"  said  he,  "how 
you  are  grown!" 

"Oh,  Tom,"  said  she,  "how  you  are 
grown  too!" 

And  no  wonder;  they  were  both 
quite  grown  up — he  into  a  tall  man, 
and  she  into  a  beautiful  woman. 

"Perhaps   I    may  be    grown,"    she 
[356] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


said.  "I  have  had  time  enough;  for  I 
have  been  sitting  here  waiting  for  you 
many  a  hundred  years,  till  I  thought  you 
were  never  coming." 

"Many  a  hundred  years?"  thought 
Tom;  but  he  had  seen  so  much  in 
his  travels  that  he  had  quite 
given  up  being  astonished; 
and,  indeed,  he  could  think 
of  nothing  but  Ellie.  So  he 
stood  and  looked  at  Ellie, 
and  Ellie  looked  at  him;  and 
they  liked  the  employment 
so  much  that  they  stood  and 
looked  for  seven  years  more, 
and  neither  spoke  nor  stirred. 

At  last  they  heard  the  fairy  say: 
"Attention,  children.  Are  you  never 
going  to  look  at  me  again?" 

"We  have  been  looking  at  you  all  this 
while,"  they  said.  And  so  they  thought 
they  had  been. 

"Then  look  at  me  once  more,"  said  she. 

[357] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

They  looked — and  both  of  them  cried  out  at  once, 
"Oh,  who  are  you,  after  all?" 

"You  are  our  dear  Mrs.  Doasyouwouldbedoneby." 

"No,  you  are  good  Mrs.  Bedonebyasyoudid;  but 
you  are  grown  quite  beautiful  now!" 

"To  you,"  said  the  fairy.     "But  look  again." 

"You  are  Mother  Carey,"  said  Tom,  in  a  very  low, 
solemn  voice;  for  he  had  found  out  something  which 
made  him  very  happy,  and  yet  frightened  him  more 
than  all  that  he  had  ever  seen. 

"But  you  are  grown  quite  young  again." 

"To  you,"  said  the  fairy.     "Look  again." 

"You  are  the  Irishwoman  who  met  me  the  day  I 
went  to  Harthover!" 

And  when  they  looked  she  was  neither  of  them, 
and  yet  all  of  them  at  once. 

"My  name  is  written. in  my  eyes,  if  you  have  eyes 
to  see  it  there." 

And  they  looked  into  her  great,  deep,  soft  eyes,  and 
they  changed  again  and  again  into  every  hue,  as  the 
light  changes  in  a  diamond. 

"Now  read  my  name,"  said  she,  at  last. 

And  her  eves  flashed,  for  one  moment,  clear,  white, 

[353] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

blazing  light:  but  the  children  could  not  read  her 
name;  for  they  were  dazzled,  and  hid  their  faces  in 
their  hands. 

"Not  yet,  young  things,  not  yet,"  said  she,  smiling; 
and  then  she  turned  to  Ellie. 

"You  may  take  him  home  with  you  now  on 
Sundays,  Ellie.  He  has  won  his  spurs  in  the  great 
battle,  and  become  fit  to  go  with  you  and  be  a  man; 
because  he  has  done  the  thing  he  did  not  like." 

So  Tom  went  home  with  Ellie  on  Sundays,  and 
sometimes  on  week-days,  too;  and  he  is  now  a  great 
man  of  science,  and  can  plan  railroads,  and  steam- 
engines,  and  electric  telegraphs,  and  rifled  guns,  and 
so  forth;  and  knows  everything  about  everything, 
except  why  a  hen's  egg  don't  turn  into  a  crocodile, 
and  two  or  three  other  little  things  which  no  one 
will  know  till  the  coming  of  the  Cocqcigrues.  And  all 
this  from  what  he  learnt  when  he  was  a  water-baby, 
underneath  the  sea. 

"And  of  course  Tom  married  Ellie?" 

My  dear  child,  what  a  silly  notion!  Don't  you 
know  that  no  one  ever  marries  in  a  fairy  tale,  under 
the  rank  of  a  prince  or  a  princess? 

[359] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 


MORAL 


And  now,  my  dear  little  man,  what  should  we  learn 
from  this  parable? 

We  should  learn  thirty-seven  or  thirty-nine  things, 
I  am  not  exactly  sure  which:  but  one  thing,  at  least,  we 
may  learn,  and  that  is  this — when  we  see  efts  in  the 
pond,  never  to  throw  stones  at  them,  or  catch  them  with 
crooked  pins,  or  put  them  into  vivariums  with  stickle- 
backs, that  the  sticklebacks  may  prick  them  in  their  poor 
little  stomachs,  and  make  them  jump  out  of  the  glass  into 
somebody's  work-box,  and  so  come  to  a  bad  end.  For 
these  efts  are  nothing  else  but  the  water-babies  who  are 
stupid  and  dirty,  and  will  not  learn  their  lessons  and 
keep  themselves  clean;  and,  therefore  {as  comparative 
anatomists  will  tell  you  fifty  years  hence,  though  they 
are  not  learned  enough  to  tell  you  now),  their  skulls 
grow  flat,  their  jaws  grow  out,  and  their  brains  grow 
small,  and  their  tails  grow  long,  and  they  lose  all  their 
ribs  {which  I  am  sure  you  would  not  like  to  do),  and 

[360] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

their  skins  grow  dirty  and  spotted,  and  they  never  get 
into  the  clear  rivers,  much  less  into  the  great  wide  sea, 
but  hang  about  in  dirty  ponds,  and  live  in  the  mud,  and 
eat  worms,  as  they  deserve  to  do. 

But  that  is  no  reason  why  you  should  ill-use  them: 
but  only  why  you  should  pity  them,  and  be  kind  to  them, 
and  hope  that  some  day  they  will  wake  up,  and  be 
ashamed  of  their  nasty,  dirty,  lazy,  stupid  life,  and  try 
to  amend,  and  become  something  better  once  more.  For, 
perhaps,  if  they  do  so,  then  after  379,423  years,  nine 
months,  thirteen  days,  two  hours,  and  twenty-one  minutes 
{for  aught  that  appears  to  the  contrary),  if  they  work 
very  hard  and  wash  very  hard  all  that  time,  their  brains 
may  grow  bigger,  and  their  jaws  grow  smaller,  and  their 
ribs  come  back,  and  their  tails  wither  off,  and  they  will 
turn  into  water-babies  again,  and  perhaps  after  that  into 
land-babies;  and  after  that  perhaps  into  grown  men. 

You  know  they  wont?  Very  well,  I  daresay  you 
know  best.  But  you  see,  some  folks  have  a  great  liking 
for  those  poor  little  efts.  They  never  did  anybody  any 
harm,  or  could  if  they  tried;  and  their  only  fault  is,  that 
they  do  no  good—any  more  than  some  thousands  of  their 
betters.     But  what  with  ducks,  and  what  with  pike,  and 

[361] 


THE   WATER-BABIES 

what  with  sticklebacks,  and  what  with  water-beetles,  and 
what  with  naughty  boys,  they  are  "sae  sair  hadden 
down"  as  the  Scotsmen  say,  that  it  is  a  wonder  how  they 
live;  and  some  folks  can't  help  hoping,  with  good 
Bishop  Butler,  that  they  may  have  another  chance,  to 
make  things  fair  and  even,  somewhere,  somewhen 
somehow. 

Meanwhile,  do  you  learn  your  lessons,  and  thank 
God  that  you  have  plenty  of  cold  water  to  wash  in;  and 
wash  in  it  too.  And  then,  if  my  story  is  not  true, 
something  better  is;  and  if  I  am  not  quite  right,  still 
you  will  be,  as  long  as  you  stick  to  hard  work  and  cold 
water. 

But  remember  always,  as  I  told  you  at  first,  that  this 
is  all  a  fairy  tale,  and  only  fun  and  pretence:  and, 
therefore,  you  are  not  to  believe  a  word  of  it,  even  if  it 
is  true. 


[362] 


